Typing to the Tune of Whitman
by frustratedstudent
Summary: Welton going co-ed is a good thing for most of the boys. For Neil Perry, it becomes the beginning of a study in quiet desperation. Epilogue: September 1960, in New York.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Here we go. That story, "Typing to the Tune of Whitman". Heh. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or situations in "Dead Poets Society". They all belong to Weir. The only characters I own are the O'Donnell siblings, random faculty and passersby, and the girls at Welton. _

_This is very different from my first story "Sonnets and Dreams" . It's not even a rewrite of it.  
_

**Typing to the Tune of Whitman**

**Chapter 1 (Neil): A Break In Tradition**

_1959_

"_It has been the board's decision to extend the excellence of the education here at Welton Academy not just to the finest and deserving young men, but also to young women. For the first time, we have opened our doors to fifteen young ladies. This marks a turning point in the history of this school." _

The very words of this announcement lingered in Neil Perry's mind after the morning's opening ceremony had ended and nearly everyone had greeted Headmaster Nolan. "For one thing, he did not seem happy to be saying that," he noted to himself as he lugged his two suitcases into the dormitory building. The entire front hall all the way up to the stairway was filled with students, some of them with their parents, turning the premises into a sort of orderly chaos.

"Same thing happens every year, Perry," one of his classmates, Hopkins, said tiredly by way of greeting from where he was dragging his bags up the staircase.

"You're right. So how was your summer?" Neil asked the burlier boy cordially.

Hopkins shrugged. "Home was driving me crazy. Couldn't wait to get away. I think Dalton and Overstreet are upstairs already, looking for you. Have you seen any of the girls that Nolan was talking about?"

"Not since the opening ceremony," Neil replied as he hauled his belongings up a few steps. For some reason, he hadn't gotten a good look at the faces of the newcomers who were causing a stir at the school. Not like it would matter, at least for the next few minutes while he settled in.

"Maybe Charlie's already chatted one of them up by this time," he thought as he sidestepped to clear a path for two young boys who were rushing down the staircase. Neil smiled wryly as he watched them, thinking that once, he had been that hapless on the day he had first arrived at Welton. Now here he was, three years later, already a senior with much being expected of him. He shook his head to clear away these thoughts before continuing on upstairs.

It took some time for him to make his way through the crowded hallway towards his dormitory room. Just as he was about to enter his cramped quarters, he caught sight of Knox Overstreet leaving one of the nearby rooms.

"Neil! How's it going?" Knox greeted first.

"Hey Knox. I'm doing well, how about you?" Neil replied as he opened the door to his own room and pulled his bags inside.

"Same as ever," Knox replied, leaning on the doorjamb and flopping his dark blond hair out of his eyes. "I heard that one of the girls here is a senior. That makes two new faces in our classes."

"Really?" Neil said curiously. "How did you find that out?"

Before Knox could answer, another person appeared in the doorway. "Neil, study group tonight?" Richard Cameron asked.

Neil smiled cordially even as Knox stepped aside. "Yeah sure," he said. He knew it would only be a matter of time till the frenetic redhead sought him out for academic purposes. That was one thing he could count on at the beginning of every term.

Cameron nodded with relief as he peered into the room. "I heard you got the new boy. Looks like a stiff!" he laughed. However he paled and muttered a hurried "Oops!" just as another boy made awkwardly his way into the room.

Neil fought to keep a straight face as he watched Cameron flee. He nodded reassuringly at the newcomer, Todd Anderson. "Listen, don't mind Cameron. He was born with his foot in his mouth, if you know what I mean," he said before pulling some papers out of his blazer and giving his roommate a friendly whack on the back.

Todd looked at Neil with a mildly quizzical expression before beginning to unpack. Outside the room, Knox motioned to someone in the hallway. A few moments later, Charles Dalton appeared in the doorway with a smug expression on his face.

"Rumor has it, you did summer school," Charlie smirked as he pointed at Neil.

It was all that Neil could do to keep from rolling his eyes at the memories of the past few months. "Yep. My father wanted me to get ahead in Chemistry," he replied. "So how was your summer, Slick?"

"Keen," Charlie said before glancing up and down the hallway. "I talked to some of the girls in the third year. Pretty cute, actually. Too bad they won't be in our classes."

Knox looked around after a few moments. "Where are Meeks and Pitts?"

"They'll probably be here later," Charlie said as he and Knox entered and closed the door behind them.

"By the way, this is Todd Anderson," Neil said, gesturing from his roommate to his friends.

"Nice to meet you," Knox said as he shook Todd's hand. "I'm Knox Overstreet."

"Charlie Dalton here," Charlie said from where he was sitting comfortable on Neil's bed.

"He's the brother of Jeffery Anderson by the way," Neil added casually. He opened one of his suitcases and carefully lifted out his typewriter, which he deposited on the desk nearest his bed.

"Oh sure. Valedictorian, National Merit Scholar," Charlie said to Todd. "So what took you so long to get to Hell-ton?"

"Nothing. Long story," Todd answered embarrassedly as he pulled some clothes out of his own bag.

"Gosh, he really is very different from his brother," Neil observed as he went to the window. Although he had been a freshman the year that Jeffrey Anderson had been a senior, he still knew enough about the older Anderson's achievements and reputation. Though Todd was just as tall and cut his blond hair in the same style that Jeffrey had at school, the Anderson brothers were definitely polar opposites of one another. For one thing, Todd was remaining awfully quiet whereas Jeffrey would have been charming the crowd and making friends by now.

Charlie fished a cigarette out of his pocket. "Of course, I bet that Jeffrey never told you about the real 4 pillars," he said to Todd.

"Yeah. Travesty, horror, decadence, excrement," Knox replied.

"So Cameron asked about the study group," Neil said. "Anyone mind including him?" he asked.

Knox groaned while Charlie blew smoke into the air. "What's his specialty, boot-licking?" Charlie retorted after a few moments. "Or tripping all over himself like I saw him do earlier?"

"He's your roommate," Neil pointed out.

"Not my doing," Charlie said nonchalantly. "We had better include Meeks if we want to pass Latin this year."

"No problem with that," Knox said more brightly.

At that moment, a knock sounded on the door. Charlie quickly stamped out his cigarette. "It's open," Neil called as he waved the smoke away. His eyes widened when the door opened, revealing his father.

"Father, I thought you'd gone—" he began as his friends got to their feet.

"Keep your seats, gentlemen," Mr. Thomas Perry said from the doorway. "Neil, I've just spoken to Mr. Nolan, and I think you're taking too many extracurricular activities this year. So I've decided you should drop the school annual."

On hearing this, Neil's jaw dropped with shock. "But I'm the assistant editor this year," he protested.

"Well I'm sorry Neil," Mr. Perry said dispassionately.

"But Father, that wouldn't be fair. I'm the assistant editor this year!"

Almost as soon as these words left his mouth, Neil saw his father's eyes harden. "Fellas, would you excuse us a moment," Mr. Perry said to the other boys. He motioned for Neil to step out of the room.

"I can't believe he is doing this to me," Neil thought with horror as he got up from his seat and followed his father out of the room. While he knew there was no way he was going to be able to get back on the school annual, not now when his father had talked to Mr. Nolan, he still wished he hadn't been called out so unceremoniously. He heard the door close resoundingly before his father grabbed his arm.

"Don't you ever dispute me in public. Do you understand?" Mr. Perry berated him harshly.

Still, Neil felt the need to defend himself. "Father, I wasn't disputing-" he began before he was cut off by another harsh cuff to his arm.

"After you've finished medical school, you can do as damn well as you please. But until then, you do as I tell you. Is that clear?" Mr. Perry continued as if he hadn't heard Neil at all.

"There's only one thing to say," Neil reminded himself. There was no other way he could ever get out of this sort of dispute. He took a deep breath before nodding. "Yes sir. I'm sorry," he said.

Satisfied, Mr. Perry's expression softened slightly. "You know how much this means to your mother, don't you?"

"Yes Sir. You know me. Always taking on too much," Neil said wryly.

"Hey Neil! There you are!" a familiar voice called from the end of the hallway. Neil turned in time to see two more friends, Stephen Meeks and Gerard Pitts, hurrying towards him, with another student in tow. It took Neil a moment to realize that the third student approaching him was a _girl_. She was dressed in a white shirt with a red and black bow at the collar, and a pleated gray skirt that fell to below her knees. She also carried a rather worn out book in one hand.

"Good day gentlemen…and lady," Mr. Perry greeted the newcomers stiffly.

"Um, good afternoon Mr. Perry," Meeks said quickly before adjusting his spectacles. "Neil, have you seen Charlie and Knox?"

"They're in there," Neil said, pointing towards his room.

Meeks nodded. "By the way, this is Vanessa O'Donnell. She's in our senior class," he said, glancing at the raven-haired girl who was with him. "Vanessa, this is one of the friends I told you about. His name's Neil. This is his father Mr. Perry."

"Pleased to meet you both," Vanessa said calmly, extending her free hand. Her smile was warm, lending a little softness to her rather severe features.

Neil shook her hand awkwardly, aware of his father's disapproving stare. "Welcome to Welton, Miss O'Donnell," he said.

Mr. Perry merely nodded by way of acknowledgment. "Well, if you need anything Neil, just let me know," he said gruffly before slapping his son on his shoulder and walking away towards the staircase.

"It could always be worse," Neil reminded himself silently as he leaned on the doorjamb. Still, he found it difficult to look at his friends and at Vanessa. "Sorry about that, guys," he said a little embarrassedly just as the door to his room opened.

Knox and Charlie emerged, looking quite shocked and disappointed at what they had heard. "Why doesn't he let you do what you want?" Charlie asked.

"Tell him off, Neil. It couldn't get any worse," Knox pointed out.

The irony of these words was not lost on Neil. "Oh that's rich. Like you guys ever tell your parents off, Mr. Future Lawyer and Mr. Future Banker?" he shot back bitterly.

"Okay, so I don't like it anymore than you do," Charlie replied.

"Yeah, but don't tell me how to talk to my father," Neil said. "It's not as if I can do anything if he's talked to Nolan about it," he added.

Charlie glanced from Meeks and Pitts to Vanessa. "Wow, I didn't think you two would get to talk to the girls before I would," he said with mock disappointment.

"Actually we just helped her get her stuff up the stairs and we were on our way to see you guys," Pitts explained.

Neil sighed before standing up straight. "Guys, meet Vanessa O'Donnell. Vanessa, this is Charles Dalton and Knox Overstreet," he said. It was then that he realized that his roommate was still inside the room. "Todd? There's someone here you might want to meet," he called.

"I think we've—"Todd began by way of reply from where he was putting his alarm clock atop his own desk.

"You mean Todd Anderson? We've already met, back when Nolan was singing the school's praises to my parents before the ceremony," Vanessa said. She made a face when saying the headmaster's name, as if it was something odious.

"Charmed to meet you, Vanessa," Charlie said smoothly as he shook Vanessa's hand. "So what brings you here instead of to Henley Hall?"

"My brother John. He's a first year student here," Vanessa replied. "That, and my stepfather is a graduate from here."

"Maybe my father might remember an O'Donnell," Knox began.

"Actually my stepfather is a Huntington," Vanessa said, crossing her arms. For a moment, it seemed to Neil that Vanessa's blue eyes had darkened momentarily as she spoke. "It's a sort of a long story," she added more mildly, hugging her copy of _The Second Sex_ closer to her.

"I know that Neil said welcome to Welton, but it's more like welcome to Hell-ton," Charlie said with a rakish grin. "It's every bit as difficult as they say, unless you're a genius like Meeks."

"I've heard the horror stories," Vanessa said lightly, brushing away a stray strand of hair that had worked its way loose from her braid.

"If you ever need help keeping up, you can look for anyone of us here," Charlie said, gesturing proudly to himself and to his friends. "We've been here long enough to know how to get by in this place."

"Thanks. I'll make sure to ask for help if I need it," Vanessa said, placing emphasis on the word 'if'.

It was all that Neil could do to keep a straight face on seeing Charlie's rather crestfallen expression. "Seems as if she's not buying it, Charlie," he joked.

"I haven't quite started yet," Charlie said in an undertone.

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "I was going to the library to check out some books for Chemistry class. Thanks for the introductions, Meeks. I'll see you guys around," she said before pushing past the boys and going to the stairway.

After a few moments, Charlie sighed deeply and shook his head. "Great. The one girl we have in our class, and she's one of those hard to get ones," he said. "Nice going there, Meeks."

"Well how was I to know?" the bespectacled redhead argued.

"Come on, she doesn't seem so bad," Neil said, clapping Charlie's shoulder reassuringly. "You'll get to talk to her later or tomorrow anyway."

"And maybe I'll have a chance then," Charlie said more pluckily. "So Meeks, we were talking about having a study group. If you could be so kind again this year…"

"Latin again? Yes sir," Meeks said. "You in, Pitts?"

"May as well," Pitts said.

"I'll ask Todd if he wants to come too," Neil said. For a moment, his gaze strayed to the stairway where Vanessa had gone. He decided though against going in that direction for some time, at least until he could deal with other pressing matters.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: (Vanessa) The Perfect Prison**

Almost as soon as she was back on the first floor, Vanessa broke into a run across the grounds till she was at the steps of the library. "Finally!" she murmured as she held on to a post for support while she caught her breath.

She glanced back over her shoulder towards the dormitory building, which was now seemed a little less ominous in the afternoon sun. Vanessa sighed as she recalled the slightly awkward conversation she had just gotten out of. "Well, at least it was never a secret to begin with," she whispered, glancing from the book she still had with her to the library's heavy oaken doors. After all, there was no point in playing coy, or in trifling with her schoolmates' attentions if she wasn't so interested in them.

"Can I help you, lady?" she heard a voice ask. Vanessa looked up to see a kindly-looking man, obviously a teacher, just exiting the library. He was carrying several thick books with him.

"I'm fine, Sir. I'm just catching my breath," she replied as she stood up straight. She recognized his face from the opening ceremony earlier that day. Unlike the other faculty at Welton, this teacher seemed much less forbidding, even perhaps more likely to crack a joke than to give a stern lecture to his students. "Mr. Keating, isn't it?" she asked.

"You can call me that," the teacher replied congenially. "And you are?"

"Vanessa O'Donnell," the girl replied. "I'm the only girl in the senior class."

Mr. Keating glanced at the book that Vanessa was holding. "You're reading de Beauvoir?" he asked.

"More like rereading it, Sir," she replied confidently. "I know that this is a translation. If I knew French, I'd get it in the original."

Mr. Keating nodded understandingly. "Well, nothing quite beats having literature in its original form, as raw as possible. Sometimes though we just have to do the best we can," he said. "Don't be late for class tomorrow, Miss O'Donnell."

Vanessa nodded. "Understood, Sir," she said before walking into the library. She did not bother hiding the smile on her face as she took in the sight of so many bookshelves, ordered and labeled according to subject matter. It took all her willpower to keep away from the shelves filled with poetry, and to keep her feet in the direction of the science books.

She found that she had to crane her neck to get a good look at the titles of the tomes on the higher shelves, and to stand on tiptoe to even reach them. Her fingers with their short nails scrabbled at the spines of the books as she tried to get a good grip. "Where in the world are the ladders?" she muttered through gritted teeth. After some time, she succeeded in seizing one book between her index finger and her middle finger, and prying it free from the shelf. At the last moment, the book slipped out of her grip and fell headlong to the floor.

"What's going on there?" a cracked voice called from the library counter.

"Nothing, just getting a book!" Vanessa shouted.

After a few moments, the librarian, a wizened old man with thick horn-rimmed spectacles, ambled over to the bookshelves. "It's quite early to be looking for a book, miss," he said.

"I just thought I'd get some reading in, Sir," Vanessa replied. "I'm worried about Chemistry classes."

"Then you'd better study hard," the librarian said. "Next time you want to get a book from the higher shelves, use a ladder. They're over at the other end of the library. Or bring one of the boys with you."

"Noted," Vanessa said. She weighed the book in one hand before lugging it over to a carrel near a window. She bit her lip as she opened the volume to the Periodic Table of Elements. "Never thought that the matter of life could be given a number," she sighed as she found the element carbon, marked with an ominous 6. Although the number was just a symbol, a mere representation of so many other nuanced things, Vanessa still couldn't shake the sense of rigidity that seemed to accompany it. She surveyed the periodic table for a few more moments before opening the book to the first chapter on the history of Chemistry.

A few minutes later, just as she was getting past the first sections defining matter, she heard another person enter the library. "Excuse me, Mr. Thurstone, but is Miss Vanessa O'Donnell here?" she heard a boy ask.

"I don't know, Mr. Perry, but there's only one other student here in the library. She's over by the Chemistry section," the librarian answered.

"What can he possibly want?" Vanessa wondered tersely as she peered over the top of carrel in time to catch sight of Neil searching the place. She waved over to him, and then closed her book as he began walking towards her.

"Hello Vanessa. Mr. Nolan sent me to find you," Neil said congenially. He looked as if he had been running across the campus.

One of Vanessa's eyebrows shot up. "What for?"

"He's giving everyone their extracurricular assignments."

Vanessa's jaw dropped at this bit of news. "Assignments?" she repeated as she walked alongside Neil towards the library checkout counter.

"You didn't know about that?" Neil asked. "That's how it works here at Welton."

She shook her head as she handed the book to Mr. Thurstone, who stamped it. "You mean that we don't get to choose?"

Neil shrugged. "He lets students have a say of sorts, but he makes the final call."

The girl grimaced as her Chemistry book was handed back to her. "What did he assign to you, Mr. Perry?" she asked.

"Welton Honors Society, Mathematics club, Chemistry club, and soccer," Neil replied rather tersely as they left the library. "And please, just call me Neil."

"Everything there sounds boring, except for soccer," Vanessa said. She found it was getting quite difficult to keep up with Neil's long strides. "Could you slow down a bit? I'm not as long legged as you are."

"Sorry about that," Neil said, stopping to let Vanessa catch up. He took a deep breath before looking at her again, this time with a wry expression. "You're right. They're boring. I don't mind soccer, but the rest I could do without," he admitted.

"Neil, if you could choose, what would you do?" Vanessa enquired.

"The school annual," Neil said. "And you?"

"School paper. I used to do that back in my old high school," Vanessa replied. "If there's a God somewhere, please allow me to at least write," she prayed silently.

"Maybe you'll be there," Neil said more reassuringly. "Todd apparently used to play soccer at Balincrest, and he's now assigned to soccer here too."

Vanessa nodded, hoping to draw some comfort from Neil's words. The way he smiled almost made her believe that yes, she would at least be able to do something she wanted. "I hope you're right about that," she said as they arrived at the bottom of the stairs leading to Nolan's office. She made sure to hide her copy of de Beauvoir's book under her Chemistry book as she and Neil walked up to the office door.

"Good luck Vanessa," Neil said as he placed his hand on the doorknob. "Is that how you're normally called?"

"I think Van will do," she replied, smoothing out her hair and her clothes, which were rumpled after having crossed the campus twice. "Not Nessa, Nessie, or anything like that, okay?" she added almost as an afterthought.

Neil chuckled at this. "See you later, Van," he said as he opened the door.

"Thanks for the help," she said softly over her shoulder before entering.

Inside the office, Nolan was sitting at his desk and handing a biscuit to his dog. "Please take a seat. You're late, Ms. O'Donnell," he said reprovingly.

"I'm sorry Sir, I was at the library," Vanessa said, gesturing to the Chemistry book she balanced on her lap. "It was a good thing that Mr. Perry knew I was there."

"Indeed," Nolan said, picking up a piece of paper. "Your records from Evergreens High School show that you were with the school paper. I'll assign you to the paper here at Welton. You will be joining the other female students for a special Physical Education class. There will also be an additional class on social graces and Home Economics. This will be held on Saturday mornings."

"Yes Sir, I understand," she said tersely, already bristling at the reality of losing part of her already restricted weekends.

"Furthermore, I understand that you haven't had as much opportunity to learn Latin as the other students in your year," the headmaster continued. "Mr. McAllister, the Latin teacher, will arrange a remedial series for you."

It took all of Vanessa's self-control to keep a straight face. "Mr. Nolan, with all due respect, my record also shows that I took an extra credit Latin class in my junior year. I believe I should be able to manage," she said as calmly as she still could.

"That will be for Mr. McAllister to decide, Ms. O'Donnell," Nolan said more sternly. "Your stepfather was one of the most driven graduates of his batch. I trust you will not disappoint him."

"It's a little late for that," Vanessa wanted to quip, but she restrained herself. "May I go now, Mr. Nolan?" she asked.

The headmaster nodded before tossing a dog biscuit to the huge hound lying by his desk. Vanessa got up from her seat and walked as quickly as she could to the door. She ran down the stairs and around a corner in the hallway, hoping to get as far as possible from the headmaster's office.

"Damn it!" she yelled once she was far enough. Inasmuch as she was relieved to be assigned to the school paper, the prospect of her other special classes and Latin remedial did not appeal to her in the least. "Trust my parents to arrange the perfect prison for me!" she seethed quietly as she stalked back to the dormitory.

The female students and faculty at Welton had been given accommodations in a small annex that was connected to the main dormitory complex only on the first and third floors. "And now thanks to Meeks and Pitts, I know that _my_ room is next to the door on the third floor," Vanessa thought as she fished for her keys in her skirt pocket. Once she got inside, she put her books on her desk and threw herself on her narrow bed without bothering to take her shoes off.

"This place really is a prison," she muttered as she looked up at the ceiling. Although she had not been expecting a spacious billet, she had hoped to get a space that she could really stretch out in. The one consolation, she reflected, was that she at least had this particular cell to herself.

Just as she moved to pick up her Chemistry book, she heard a knock on the door. "Who is it?" she called.

The door opened partway, and another girl peered in. "You're a student?" she asked in a lilting voice. Her auburn hair was tied back by a pink ribbon that did not match the uniform she was wearing, which seemed a little oversized on her petite frame.

"Yeah, what else could I be?" Vanessa said as she sat up straight. She estimated that this girl had to be maybe a year younger than she was. "What's your name?" she asked civilly.

"Anne Louise Paterson, but everyone calls me Annie," the other student replied. "I'm in my junior year. You are?"

"Vanessa O'Donnell. I'm the lone senior girl. Guess my nickname is Van."

Annie whistled as she sat on the lone chair in the room. "Are you Irish?"

"My great-grandfather was," Vanessa replied. "Are you knocking on everyone's doors or something to ask these questions?"

"No, I was just wondering who else was on this floor. I've got the room on the other end of the hall from here. There are five other girls on this floor with us," Annie said, pointing with her thumb to the right. "I didn't see you at the meeting in Nolan's office this afternoon."

"I went to the library after dumping my stuff here," Vanessa explained. "Guess that's why no one could find me at first."

Annie nodded as she looked around the room. "Wow, you don't have a roommate?" she said enviously.

"Comes with being a senior I guess," Vanessa shrugged nonchalantly.

"That's nice. What were you in the library for?" Annie pressed on.

"To get some studying done, obviously," Vanessa replied, gesturing to her Chemistry book.

Just then, the door opened wider. "Annie! There you are!" a taller girl chirped, tossing back her blonde curls. "Who's your new friend?"

"Her name's Van," Annie said pleasantly. "Van, meet my best friend Theodosia Walter. Dosha, meet Van."

Vanessa rolled her eyes at this intrusion. "She's probably the best friend that Annie just met this morning," she noted as the two girls began chatting with each other. She did not bother making space on the bed for Theodosia to sit down. Theodosia seemed a bit older than Annie, not to mention perhaps just a little worldlier.

After a few moments though, she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Annie says you're a senior," Theodosia gushed. "Sounds like it's going to be hard."

"Maybe boring," Vanessa said. "My subjects don't sound like they're going to be very exciting, except maybe English or Trig."

"Yeah. I can't do that Latin. It's not interesting," Annie said. "Nor am I any good

with numbers, you know?

Theodosia rolled her eyes before looking again at Vanessa. "So tell me, are there

any cute senior boys?"

Inexplicably, Neil and his friends came to mind, forcing Vanessa to pause to consider her next few words. "Well, there are some rather eager ones," she said slyly, recalling how Charlie had acted earlier that day. For a moment, she toyed with the idea of setting one of these girls up with Charlie, but eventually decided against it.

Annie and Theodosia exchanged surprised looks. "Eager? Like how?" Annie asked curiously.

"I think I'll leave you to find out for yourself."

Theodosia snorted petulantly as she reached for Vanessa's chemistry book. She paused though when she saw the copy of _The Second Sex_ on top of the textbook. "What are you reading that for?" she asked, sounding as if she had just discovered a stash of pornography in the stack.

"Is it such a bad thing?" Vanessa asked, genuinely surprised.

"My teachers said that this book isn't for young girls," Annie chimed in.

"So did my Mom," Theodosia added, shaking her head disapprovingly. "All those ideas about how women should be. It's like she's making it seem that we should do something about who we are."

"Well, we're at Welton now, what does it matter? It's not as if anyone's going to come in here to search for bad books," Vanessa said, now thoroughly irritated at Theodosia's prying.

"We're at Welton now and it means….I don't know, but it just can't be good that you have that book here," Annie said worriedly. "Like what if the teachers find out?"

Vanessa could only smile. "Now _that_ would be interesting."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 (Neil): The Captain**

For every student at Welton, morning came much too soon for their liking. For the seniors though, morning came with the usual dread, but also brought with it a number of unexpected surprises.

"What do you think gents? Not bad for a first day at Welton," Charlie said cockily the next day over lunch with his friends.

"Are you kidding? This is a disaster!" Cameron groaned. "First, there's the fact that I'm grouped with that _girl_ O'Donnell in Chemistry. Then there's that little display that happened during Latin…"

"Cameron, most guys would _kill_ to be in your position," Charlie said, waving a fork dangerously in his roommate's direction. "If you want to switch lab partners, I for one would be happy."

"And about the Latin, it wasn't anyone's fault," Neil said, hoping to defuse the tension building at the table. He nearly knocked his soup spoon off the table, but he succeeded in catching it at the last second.

"It was just a recitation. It will blow over," Meeks said after swallowing what just passed for mashed potatoes.

"Easy for you to say," Pitts said. "You got out of it just fine."

"Fine, McAllister wanted everyone to know the lesson from last year, but he forgot that we had two new students in class," Neil pointed out, glancing sympathetically at Todd. The younger boy still looked quite shaken, despite the fact that it had been half an hour after McAllister's irately conducting a recitation that had been to the detriment of half the class.

"And the fact that most of us wouldn't remember a thing either thanks to the summer," Knox added from behind a mouthful of pot roast.

"Still!" Cameron said irately as he stirred his soup.

At that moment, Pitts glanced towards the doorway of the dining hall. "Hey guys, here she comes," he said cautiously.

Neil swallowed hard as he watched Vanessa stalk into the hall. Her face had gone quite white and she was biting her lip as if fighting to keep her composure. Knox waved towards her. For a moment, Vanessa paused as if deciding whether she should join them, before taking a deep breath and walking over.

"Shouldn't she be sitting with the other girls?" Cameron asked under his breath. "I mean—"

"Exactly what did you mean, Cameron?" Vanessa asked as she finally got to the table. "The only reason that I'm here, and not with my brother or the girls, is because I know you guys can help me, and I've got an offer that I think you can't refuse."

"I think I like the sound of that," Charlie said as he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Charlie," Vanessa said.

"Really? What's going on?" Neil asked as Charlie and Todd, who were sitting across from him, moved to make room at the bench despite Cameron's protests.

The girl let out a deep breath as she sat down and looked straight at him. "I just got back from talking to McAllister. He's putting me in remedial for Latin since I couldn't answer the question he gave to me at recitation today," she said.

Neil winced even as the other boys expressed their sympathies. Cameron rolled his eyes and opened his mouth as if to say something before Charlie elbowed him. "That's no fun. For how long?" Pitts asked.

"Till he says so," Vanessa replied. "Hopefully he doesn't mean till the end of the semester. At least he was being fair enough to suggest that I can get out of remedial earlier if my test scores are exceptional."

"Right. So I guess this means you'll be joining our study group after all?" Charlie smirked knowingly.

Cameron scowled at this. "Guys, please be serious."

"So what were you saying about an offer?" Neil asked, ignoring him.

Vanessa put her elbows on her table and rested her chin on her knuckles. "If you boys can help me with my Latin, in return, I'll help out with Trig and History. And maybe even Chemistry," she said calmly. "So what do you guys say?"

Todd set down his glass of water. "Sure," he mumbled.

"I guess that's what they say, the more the merrier," Knox said brightly.

"At least I won't be the only one doing Trig," Meeks grinned while Pitts nodded.

Neil realized that he was smiling. "You're driving a hard bargain there, Van," he said. "Three subjects?"

"I do my best," Vanessa said, picking up a roll from the bread basket.

Cameron threw up his hands resignedly. "Fine, fine then. I suppose I'll have to agree since you're my Chemistry partner."

"So that's settled," Neil said. "We usually meet in the lounge, at eight."

Before Vanessa could thank him, the bell rang. "Alright, everyone back to your classes. Exit in an orderly fashion," Dr. Hager called.

"Oh damn, I didn't get anything to eat," Vanessa said as she picked up several more rolls from the bread basket.

"I think you're getting the only thing that was actually edible on this table," Neil pointed out. He drained an entire glass of water to get the aftertaste of his meal out of his mouth. "After all of these years, they never improved the food around here," he thought as he collected his things and headed out at the same time Charlie and Knox did. Neil looked back over his shoulder in time to see Meeks and Pitts pull a still sulking Cameron out of his seat amid the rising hubbub of students exiting the dining hall. Vanessa and Todd trailed after, exchanging short snatches of conversation.

Charlie snickered and thumped Neil on his shoulder. "Smooth work there, Perry. Atta boy," he grinned.

"That's not exactly what I intended," Neil said dryly as they made their way to the Trigonometry classroom. Still, he had to admit, it was good to see that Vanessa's bad mood had been so easily dispelled.

Trignometry class played out exactly as Neil had thought it would: Dr. Hager had delivered his lecture warning his students about the deductions he would give for missed homework, before proceeding to lecture on a few theorems and giving assignments. By the time the bell rang signaling the end of the period, all the students were glad to get away to English class.

"You should be glad that Mr. Portius already retired. That guy was stiff to a 't'," he heard Charlie explaining to Todd and Vanessa. "Wonder what this new Keating fellow's like."

"He did come from here. I guess you know what that means," Meeks shrugged as they got in the door of the classroom. Neil made a beeline for one of the seats in the third row of the room. Vanessa took a seat next to him, while Cameron headed for the second row. Charlie and Knox went for the rear of the room, leaving Meeks and Pitts to find other seats midway. Todd, who had been a few steps behind them, suddenly found himself with no other seat but one in the front of the room.

"Hey, I'll just get that seat-" Vanessa began as she picked up her books.

Todd shook his head. "I'll be fine there," he said before shuffling over to the vacant seat.

Neil bit his lip as he watched this scene. "At least he's not getting the seat front and center," he reassured himself. That would have killed Todd for sure. He ducked to avoid a ball of paper aimed at Spaz, one of Cameron's other seatmates.

"Seems as if Mr. Keating's a little late," Vanessa commented just as someone began whistling at one side of the room. The class began quieting down when they realized that the person whistling was none other than Mr. Keating to himself. Neil saw several eyebrows go up as the teacher walked to the front of the room, then out towards the door leading to the hallway.

A few moments later, Mr. Keating poked his head back in. "Well, come on," he said to the class. After some hesitation, the entire class grabbed their books and followed the teacher out of the room.

"What are we going to do in the foyer?" Neil wondered as Mr. Keating stopped outside the impressive row of trophies in the main entranceway. He hung back to let some of his other classmates press closer to the trophies and the front of the crowd.

"'Oh Captain, My Captain'. Who knows where that line comes from?" Mr. Keating asked as he looked around the class. The only reply that came was the sound of Spaz blowing his nose.

"Not a clue?" Mr. Keating asked. "It's from a poem by Walt Whitman about Mr. Abraham Lincoln. Now in this class you can call me Mr. Keating. Or, if you're slightly more daring, Oh Captain, My Captain."

Neil and some of the others snickered, partly from this and partly as well from the sight of Cameron trying to write down everything that Mr. Keating said. "For someone who survived Hell-ton, he sure seems different," Neil observed.

He saw Pitts open his textbook to a page that Mr. Keating pointed out. "To the virgins make much of time?" Pitts asked.

"Yes, that's the one. Somewhat appropriate, isn't it?" Mr. Keating replied.

Pitts continued in a monotone. "_Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, old time is still a flying, and this same flower that smiles today, tomorrow will be dying_." He looked up at Mr. Keating, clearly wondering what was going to happen next.

"Thank you Mr. Pitts. 'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may'," Mr. Keating began. "The Latin term for that sentiment is Carpe Diem. Now who knows what that means?"

"Seize the day," Neil thought. He could see Vanessa's brow furrowing as she tried to recall the words. From the front row, Meeks' hand shot up.

"'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may'. 'Seize the day'. Why does the writer use these lines?" Mr. Keating continued.

"Because he's in a hurry?" Charlie piped up.

"No ding!" Mr. Keating replied as he pressed an imaginary buzzer. "Thank you for playing anyway," His expression became grave as he looked at the class solemnly and continued, "Because we are food for worms lads, and lady," he said, nodding to Vanessa. "Because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold, and die."

Neil bit his lip as he felt a chill settle within him at these words. For a moment, he glanced down at his wrists, as if a flicker of red had suddenly streamed over them. "No way I can be a doctor if I can't stand the sight of blood," he thought as he and the class leaned in closer to look at the photos displayed within the trophy cabinets.

"They're not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you. Their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because you see, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in," Mr. Keating urged them.

At this point, Neil found himself pressed a little closer to the front of the group. He winced as he felt someone's elbow digging into his side. Nevertheless, he leaned in all the same, just as the rest did. Moments later, he heard a low voice whisper nearby, "Carpe. Carpe Diem."

He could hear some of his classmates' murmuring and rustling, as if they had been slightly discomfited. Neil's grip tightened on his books as he heard the voice once again say, "Seize the day. Make your lives extraordinary."

After what seemed to be forever, Mr. Keating said, "That will be all for today. I'll see you tomorrow morning. Class dismissed."

"I did not expect that, not one bit," Vanessa said as the students made their way to the door. "What do you think guys?"

"That was weird," Pitts said.

"But different," Neil replied more brightly. Despite the fact that he knew perfectly what was going on, for a moment, he had actually wondered just what it might be like to actually believe in those words. "Why hasn't anyone at Welton ever told us this before?" he asked himself silently.

"Spooky if you ask me," Knox said.

"Do you think he'll test us on that stuff?" Cameron wondered.

Charlie shook his head while Vanessa shot him a withering look. "Don't you get anything, Cameron?" Charlie chided.

"What? What?" Cameron asked. He looked over at Neil. "What do you think?"

"Well of course not. It's not quite in the book," Neil replied good-humoredly and with undisguised relief. Perhaps, he wondered, this would be one of the first times in his life he could throw the book out of the window. If only it could have happened more of the time though.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 (Vanessa): The Powerful Play**

"Trust me, soccer isn't fun when the ball is aimed at you all the time."

Vanessa snorted as she glanced at her younger brother. "Just add a few inches on you, and that won't be so much of a problem." She crossed her arms as she mimicked her brother's posture of leaning against the wall. "Maybe you're just a late bloomer, John."

John O'Donnell shook his head before adjusting the cuffs of his shirt, which had gotten a little soiled during dinner. "Yeah, I'm getting beat up by a bunch of thirteen year old giants. At least you're a girl. You don't have that problem," he said, shooting a glare at Vanessa.

"Oh you have no idea what I have to deal with instead," the older student drawled. "I think I'll survive dance and gymnastics, but not Home Ec or etiquette."

"Home Ec? Wasn't being at home enough?" John laughed. "You're speaking like we were back in New Jersey."

"Don't remind me of home—at least the one in Vermont," Vanessa snapped. "I would give anything to be back in New Jersey, just you, Mom, and me. There, I didn't have to be the perfect woman, or an ornament."

"Not going to happen," John said resignedly. He lowered his voice so they wouldn't be heard in the foyer. "Vanessa, you're almost done with high school. Next year you can do anything, go back to New Jersey or anyplace you want."

"Not if Mom and Peter have their say."

"You're still not calling him 'Dad'?"

"I don't want to," Vanessa muttered. She bit her lip to the point that she tasted blood. "Can we just not talk about this now?"

John nodded understandingly, letting his floppy black hair fall into his eyes. "So I don't see you hanging with the other girls. What's with that?" he asked curiously.

"So you _have_ been looking at the girls," Vanessa teased.

"I'm a guy!"

"I know. I was just being the mean older sister that I am," Vanessa said, punching John's shoulder jokingly.

"Hey!" John scowled as the clock struck eight. "I've still got some homework to finish up. See you tomorrow," he said before heading to the stairs.

"Yeah, you too," Vanessa said, picking up her books from where she'd dumped them on the floor. She squared her shoulders before sweeping into the student lounge. She politely nodded to Annie, who was sitting at a corner with Theodosia and some other girls. Before Theodosia could say anything, Vanessa had already located the table where her classmates were studying.

Carefully, she slid into an empty seat that was as far away from Cameron's as possible. "Even if it means being closer to Neil and Charlie," she thought. She glanced towards where Meeks and Pitts were working on what appeared to be a radio. "Where are Todd and Knox?" she asked.

"Knox is still having dinner at the Danburrys. Todd said he had to work on something for History," Neil replied, looking up from his homework.

"Here, we're at Problem Number 4, can you figure it out?" Cameron asked, handing a whole sheet of solutions to Vanessa. "The sides don't match up."

The girl studied the paper for a moment. "Sheesh, it's reciprocals. You do remember what the reciprocal of sine is?" she asked.

"Sec something," Charlie mumbled, pressing down too hard with his pencil so that the lead snapped. Cursing, he tossed it aside and grabbed another pencil from among those piled up next to Pitts' elbow.

"Actually it's cosecant," Meeks said, waving the radio antenna around.

"Yeah. To make it easier, just write everything in terms of sine and cosine," Vanessa said, scrawling something beside Cameron's solutions.

"Won't it make things more difficult?" Neil asked, peering curiously at her work.

"As long as both sides balance out, it should work," Vanessa said. She willed herself to ignore the sheer proximity of his fingers to hers on top of the paper. "Then you can just write everything back into tangent and whatever else if you have to."

"While you're doing that, maybe someone should try Problem 5. Looks like a nasty piece of work," Charlie said.

Neil grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and began writing. Vanessa, who had just finished proving the equation in Problem 4, now watched him intently for a few moments. "You're actually left-handed?" she asked.

"Yep."

"Regardless of all attempts to turn him otherwise," Charlie said. "Damn, what's with these stupid pencils?" he muttered, flinging aside yet another broken one.

At that moment, the lounge door opened, admitting Knox. However instead of joining them, he merely leaned against the doorjamb, wearing a look of abject misery.

"How was dinner?" Charlie asked.

"Huh."

"How was dinner?" Charlie asked more insistently.

Knox stirred slightly. "Terrible, awful."

Cameron whistled while Charlie and Vanessa moved to make room for Knox. The newcomer sat down, but now his morose expression had turned dreamy.

"Tonight, I met the most beautiful girl in my entire life," he said.

"Are you crazy? What's wrong with that?" Neil asked confusedly.

Knox's face fell. "She's practically engaged. To Chet Danburry."

Vanessa cringed on recognizing the name. "Ugh, one of the jerks my stepfather used to brag about," she deadpanned. "Before he left Welton."

"That guy can eat a football," Charlie remarked.

"Too bad," Pitts added.

"Too bad? It's worse than too bad, Pittsie, it's a tragedy!" Knox retorted. "A girl this beautiful, in love with such a jerk."

"Just forget her. Why don't you help us figure out Problem 5?" Cameron said.

"I can't just forget her, Cameron. And I certainly can't think about Trig," Knox said, shaking his head.

"Be careful there, Knox. You don't want to pine like how Romeo did for Rosaline," Vanessa warned.

"It's so much worse than that, Van," Knox groaned just as a high-pitched whine came from the radio.

"I can't believe it! We got it!" Meeks exclaimed.

At that moment, Dr. Hager looked inside the student lounge. "Alright everyone, five minutes," he called.

"Did you see her naked?" Charlie asked Knox while Meeks and Pitts began hiding their radio.

Knox glared back. "Very funny Dalton."

"Boys," Vanessa thought as she peered over at the solution that Neil was quickly explaining to Cameron and Charlie. She shook her head with sympathy as she watched Knox wander despondently up the stairs, clearly unable to focus on anything other than the vision he had seen earlier that night.

Morning found them all back in English class. "You don't suppose he'll try something unusual again?" Cameron wondered aloud as they took their seats.

"I wouldn't mind if he did," Vanessa replied just before Mr. Keating entered and sat at his desk.

"Class, open your text to page 21 of the introduction," Mr. Keating said. He glanced momentarily at his class list. "Mr. Perry, will you read the opening paragraph of the preface, titled 'Understanding Poetry'?"

Neil squinted for a moment before putting on his eyeglasses. He held the book up as he began reading, "Understanding Poetry, by Dr. J. Evans Pritchard, PhD. To fully understand poetry, we must first be fluent with its meter, rhyme, and figures of speech. Then ask two questions: One, how artfully has the objective of the poem been rendered, and two, how important is that objective. Question one rates the poem's perfection, question two rates its importance. And once these questions have been answered, determining a poem's greatness becomes a relatively simple matter."

"Say that to a journalist about his or her writing, you'll get your head ripped off," Vanessa thought as she followed the text. She could already hear some of her classmates stirring restlessly, or reaching for their notebooks to copy everything down. She shook her head as she watched Mr. Keating drawing a graph on the blackboard to illustrate Pritchard's evaluation of poetry's technique against its importance. Reluctantly, she picked up her pen and a ruler to begin copying down the graph.

"As your ability to evaluate poems in this matter grows, so will your enjoyment and understanding of poetry," Neil finished reading. He took off his glasses and picked up his notebook to copy the graph as well.

However Mr. Keating now turned to face the class. "Excrement," he simply said. "That's what I think of Mr. J Evans Pritchard. We're not talking about laying pipe, we're talking about poetry."

Vanessa felt her hand letting go of her ruler, which fell to the floor with a deafening clatter. She saw Neil's eyes brighten with interest as Mr. Keating continued, ""I mean, how can you describe poetry like American Bandstand? 'I like Byron, I give him a 42, but I can't dance to it."

"Now I want you to rip out that page," Mr. Keating said. "Go on, you heard me. Rip it out. Rip it out!"

"Oh my God, is he serious?" Vanessa wondered. All her life, she had been raised to give books a wide berth (which she never did), and if ever she had to handle one, to leave it as unmarked as possible. The latter was one thing at least she abided by.

However a sharp, ripping sound from the back of the room broke her train of reverie. Everyone in the class turned to see Charlie, with his trademark eager smile, holding up page 21.

"Thank you Mr. Dalton," Mr. Keating said approvingly. "Gentlemen, lady, tell you what, don't just rip out the entire page, rip out the entire introduction. Begone, Mr. J Evans Pritchard!"

Vanessa watched, incredulous, as her friends began ripping out the pages of the introduction. "Did we hear you right, Sir?" she asked Mr. Keating.

"That you did, Ms. O'Donnell. Go on, send that Introduction into oblivion," Mr. Keating replied.

"Oh hell, here goes nothing," she thought as she grabbed the paper and tore it out haphazardly. The sound of ripping satisfied her very much, and she tore at the pages with more fervor. She saw Charlie and Pitts already making paper balls out of the banished introduction, even while Cameron was still hesitating.

"It's not the Bible, you're not going to hell for this," Mr. Keating told Cameron. "Go on, make a clean tear of it!"

Vanessa balled up a piece of Pritchard and lobbed it at Cameron. "You heard him, go rip it out!" she called.

"We shouldn't be doing this!"

"Rip! Rip!" Neil said, forcing Cameron to turn around.

In the middle of this frenzy of tearing paper and excited commentary, the classroom door slammed open. "What the hell is going on here?" the voice of Mr. McAllister bellowed over the din.

In a second, everyone froze and the sound of ripping paper ceased. Vanessa suppressed a snicker into her sleeve as Charlie bit on a wad of paper.

At that moment, Mr. Keating emerged from his office, carrying a wastebasket. "I don't hear enough rips!" he called.

Mr. McAllister took a step back. "Mr. Keating."

"Mr. McAllister," Mr. Keating said with a smile.

The Latin teacher, much to the silent amusement of the class, took another step back. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were here."

"I am," Mr. Keating replied before the other teacher retreated. He now walked up and down between the rows of students, holding out the wastebasket for everyone to throw in their ripped out papers.

"Keep ripping everyone. This is a battle, a war. And the very casualties can be your hearts and souls," he said. He stopped as Charlie spat out a wad of paper into the wastebasket. "Thank you Mr. Dalton. Armies of academics going forward, measuring poetry. No we will have none of that here. No more of Mr. J. Evans Pritchard. In my class you will learn to think for yourselves again!"

These very words sent a jolt through Vanessa as she lobbed several balls of paper into the wastebasket. "Is there any other way to think?" she wondered as Mr. Keating went back to the front of the room.

His eyes were still merry as he began. "No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world. I see that look in Mr. Pitt's eye, like nineteenth century literature has nothing to do with going to business school or medical school. Right?"

At the corner of her eye, Vanessa saw Neil look down momentarily at these words. However she leaned forward as she listened to the rest of Mr. Keating's words.

"Maybe, Mr. Hopkins, you may agree with him, thinking 'Yes, we should simply study our Mr. Pritchard and learn our rhyme and meter and go quietly about the business of achieving other ambitions.'". He stopped in the center of the room and glanced at Vanessa, "And maybe, Ms. O'Donnell, you may have been told that you don't need to know Shakespeare to be useful, or to get a husband. I'll tell you what; I have a little secret for all of ya. Huddle up. Huddle up!"

Vanessa, Neil, Cameron, and their other seatmates leaned in to listen while the rest of the class left their seats to huddle in the center of the room. Mr. Keating looked around the whole group with a serious sort of smile.

"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business, engineering, these are all noble pursuits, and necessary to sustain life," he said, looking each member of the class in the face.

His next words were emphatic, "But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman: "_O me, o life of the questions of these recurring, of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities filled with the foolish. What good amid these, o me, o life? Answer: that you are here. That life exists, and identity. That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse_."

Mr. Keating paused for a moment before he repeated more slowly, "That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse."

Behind her, Vanessa heard someone, Priske, exhale raggedly, as if he had been holding his breath. She saw too that Neil was smiling brightly, the magic of these words now clearly upon him.

As for Mr. Keating, he glanced up at Todd and asked, "What will your verse be?"


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I hope to get more reviews on this thing. I'm uploading the next 3 chapters to see what you all think_

**Chapter 5 (Neil) Revival**

It was as if a firestorm had started up in Neil's brain. "Mr. Keating could not have just been an ordinary Welton graduate!" he thought as he left his History class, walking out ahead of his friends.

"Hey Neil, where are you going?" Knox asked curiously.

"To get something. I'll catch up at lunch," Neil replied. As his friends rounded the corner leading to the dining room, Neil walked quickly in the direction of the library. He already had a picture in his mind about where he would go, having visited that particular row of shelves quite frequently when he was still working with the school annual.

The librarian, Mr. Thurstone, was sipping a cup of tea when Neil entered the library. "Ah, Mr. Perry. Is there anything I can do for you?" the old man asked.

Neil paused, suddenly hit with some inspiration. "Mr. Thurstone, were you already here at Welton when Mr. Keating was a student?" he asked.

The elderly gentleman's wrinkled brow furrowed further. "Mr. Keating…ah you mean John Keating? He graduated from here around the time of the war," he said.

"Really?" Neil replied. "Gosh, he's young."

"Well, that was about 1942 or 1943. After Pearl Harbor," Mr. Thurstone said. "Are you looking for his annual?"

"Just something I wanted to check," Neil said. "Thanks Mr. Thurstone."

It did not take him long to locate the annuals from the 1940s. Eagerly, Neil thumbed through the volumes, hoping to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. At last, his quick gaze found the image and the write-up of the very person he was looking for.

"Soccer team, editor of the school annual, Cambridge bound, now that's interesting he was a thigh man and the one most likely to do anything…and what have we here, the Dead Poets Society?" he read softly. Quickly, he inspected the rest of the annual, wondering where else it would come up. As he half-expected, he came up empty.

Now with his curiosity thoroughly piqued, Neil brought the annual to the checkout counter. "Sir, would it be fine if I check it out?" he asked Mr. Thurstone.

Mr. Thurstone's eyes narrowed. "That's not usually allowed."

"I'll return it later during study period."

"Do I have your word on that, Mr. Perry?"

Neil nodded. "Yes sir." He waited for Mr. Thurstone to give a nod of acknowledgement before he left the library as quickly as he could.

Much to his relief, his friends had left some food for him when he arrived at the dining hall. "Here, I found Mr. Keating's senior annual," he said, holding up the volume for his friends to see.

Cameron burst out laughing as they opened the page to Mr. Keating's photograph. Vanessa glanced from the photograph to the teacher sitting at the faculty table. "He hasn't aged much," she commented.

"Yes, but listen to this," Neil said before proceeding to list Mr. Keating's credentials. "And yes, he was the man most likely to do anything," he finished.

"Thigh man," Charlie said with admiration evident in his voice. "Mr. K was a hell-raiser."

Knox peered at the page more intently. "What was the Dead Poets Society?"

Neil shrugged. "I don't know. It's not mentioned anywhere else."

"That boy there! See me after lunch!" Mr. Nolan called from across the hall.

Quickly the students hid the annual. "After lunch," Charlie said.

Neil nodded as he tried to eat his meal in as few mouthfuls as was possible. Just when he was chewing the last of his food, he heard Meeks stand up. "He's going already!" he said urgently.

Neil had just enough time to wash down his food with a hearty gulp of water before running after his friends, who were following Mr. Keating out of the hall.

"Oh great, he just has to go outside!" Cameron groaned as they saw the English teacher walking in the general direction of the wharf.

"Forget it, it's now or never," Neil said reprovingly as they walked faster so that they were soon within earshot.

"Mr. Keating!" Vanessa called out over Mr. Keating's whistling.

"Mr. Keating? Sir?" Neil asked. However when the teacher did not turn to acknowledge them, he decided to try a different tactic.

"Oh Captain My Captain?"

At this, Mr. Keating turned, not looking the least bit surprised to see them there. "Gentlemen. Ms. O'Donnell," he greeted.

Neil brought the annual out. "We were just looking through your old annual."

Mr. Keating chuckled with dismay on opening the book. "Oh God. That's not me. That's Stanley "The Tool" Wilson." He crouched down to examine the annual more closely in the midday light.

Neil moved closer. "What was the Dead Poets' Society?" he asked.

Mr. Keating looked up from the annual. "I doubt that the present administration would look too favorably upon that."

"Why? What was it?"

Mr. Keating hesitated, almost as if he was deliberating on a grave matter. "Gentlemen, lady, can you keep a secret?" he asked in a conspiratorial tone.

"Sure," Neil replied as everyone else nodded and crouched down closer.

Mr. Keating looked at each of his students before he said, "The Dead Poets were dedicated to sucking the marrow out of life. That's a phrase from Thoreau that we'd invoke at the beginning of each meeting. You see we'd gather at the old Indian cave and take turns reading from Thoreau, Whitman, Shelley; the biggies. Even some of our own verse. And in the enchantment of the moment we'd let poetry work its magic."

A thrill coursed down Neil's spine at these words. However he saw questioning looks on his friends' faces. "You mean it was a bunch of guys sitting around reading poetry?" Knox asked.

Mr. Keating frowned momentarily. "No, Mr. Overstreet, it wasn't _just_ guys. We weren't a Greek organization. We were Romantics." At this point, his smile broadened. "We didn't just read poetry, we let it drip from our tongues like honey. Spirits soared, women swooned, and gods were created. Not a bad way to spend an evening eh?"

He thrust the annual back into Neil's hands. "Thank you Mr. Perry for this trip down amnesia lane. Burn that, especially my picture," he said in an undertone before standing up and walking off, still whistling.

For a moment, Neil could think of nothing. Then, as he would say some time after, the very smallest germ of possibility took root in his mind. "Dead Poets Society," he whispered as he looked out into the sun. There only seemed one right thing to do now that the idea was made known to him and his friends; it could never work with anyone else, or at any other time.

He got to his feet as the school bell rang. "I say we go tonight," he announced to his friends.

"Tonight?" Charlie repeated.

"Wait a minute…" Cameron began.

"Where's this cave that he's talking about?" Pitts asked.

"It's beyond the stream. I know where it is," Neil said. He could see the place now in his mind, seemingly unreachable for the moment, but just there.

Pitts' eyes bugged out. "That's miles."

"Sounds boring to me," Cameron scowled.

"Then don't come," Charlie said.

Cameron turned to glare at him. "Do you know how many demerits we're talking about, Dalton?"

"Then don't come, please," Charlie said as they all began running back towards the school building and the sound of Dr. Hager's yelling.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we can't get caught," Cameron insisted.

"Well no shit, Sherlock!"

Neil turned to look at his friends, now certain more than ever that yes, this had to happen that very night. "All right, who's in?"

"Neil, Hager's right-" Cameron sputtered.

"No, forget Hager!" Neil said. "Who's in?"

As he expected, an expression of glee formed on Charlie's face. "I'm in."

Cameron sighed. "Me too."

Pitts stowed his hands in his pockets. "I don't know, Neil…"

"Pittsie!" Charlie exclaimed.

"His grades are hurting," Meeks explained.

"You can help him Meeks," Neil pointed out.

"What's this, a midnight study group?" Pitts asked.

"Forget it Pitts, you're coming," Neil insisted. "Meeks?"

"I'll try anything once," Meeks grinned.

"Except sex!" Charlie laughed. "Knox, are you coming?"

Neil ran past Charlie, who was still trying to convince Knox. He hoped to catch Todd and Vanessa before they got indoors. He found Vanessa in the back hallway, where she had stopped to smooth out her hair in front of a mirror.

"So are you coming later?" Neil asked as he stood behind her.

Her eyes narrowed. "Is this a serious question?"

"Well of course it is," Neil replied in a furtive whisper. "You were there, you heard what Mr. Keating said!"

Vanessa crossed her arms as she turned to look at him. "Really, what will people think of a girl who runs around with a bunch of boys _at night in a cave?" _

"No one has to know," he pointed out. He nodded to Knox and Charlie as they hurried past, before looking at Vanessa again. "If you're hoping to be daring, now is the chance," he told her.

"And how do you know I'm daring?" Vanessa challenged, looking him in the eye.

"I'm going to be dead for saying this," Neil realized inwardly. He cleared his throat before speaking again. "Most girls don't march up to join a study group just like that. Or make it no secret that they're reading a lot."

"You have obviously not been around enough women."

"I know. But are you coming or what?"

Vanessa paused before glancing towards the classroom where they were expected to be. "I'll give it a try. But one ungentlemanly act or pass on me, and you're all history. You got that, Neil Perry?" she replied firmly.

"On my word," Neil said as they continued walking to the classroom. Since Mr. McAllister was already in the room and writing on the blackboard, Neil decided he would just have to ask Todd later during study hall.

As he slid into his seat, Charlie shot him a grin. "Women swoon?" he mouthed.

Neil nodded before bringing out his Latin notes.

The next few hours seemed to creep by with the agonizing slowness so characteristic of anticipation. During study hall, Meeks made it a point to bring out a map of the woods in order for their group to find the cave more easily. However, Neil realized after a minute that Todd did not seem to be joining their discussion.

He edged over to where his roommate sat a little away from the group. "Todd, are you coming tonight?" he asked in a low voice.

Todd shook his head. "No."

"Why not?" Neil asked, his voice filled with shock and concern for this boy who seemed to hold himself back far too much for his own good. "You heard what Mr. Keating said. Don't you want to do something about it?"

"Yes, but—"

"But what?"

It took a few moments for Todd to gather himself together. "Keating said that everyone took turns reading. I don't think I can do that."

Neil's jaw dropped. "Gosh, you really do have a problem with that, don't you?"

Todd colored slightly. "I don't have a problem with that. I just d-don't want to do it," he blustered.

Neil paused, wondering just how to win him over. "What if…" he thought before turning back to his roommate again. "Wait, what if you didn't have to read? What if you just sat there and listened?" he suggested.

"That's not how it works."

"Forget how it works!" Neil insisted. Now more than ever, he was convinced that Todd should not be left out of this. "What if they said it was okay?"

"What are you going to do, go up and ask them?" Todd queried.

Neil nodded. "I'll be right back," he said, running back despite Todd's protests. When he got back to the table, he saw Pitts outlining a route to the cave on his Trigonometry notebook.

"So what's happened?" Vanessa asked Neil.

Neil glanced surreptitiously back towards Todd. "He doesn't want to read. But I told him that he could just come and listen, that is if it's fine with you guys."

"There's no harm in that," Knox shrugged, looking around the rest of the group.

"Yeah, but he can't just sit and listen," Cameron said. "He's got to do something, it's only fair."

"Maybe he can take minutes," Meeks suggested.

"You know, that's a good idea," Neil whispered before Mr. McAllister called them off, forcing the group to put off their discussion.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 (Vanessa): The Marrow Of Life**

"You know, I could positively _die_ if he just smiled at me!"

Vanessa spit into the sink and rinsed out her mouth. "Who are you talking about?" she asked the girl standing at the neighboring sink.

Theodosia smiled as she combed out her golden hair. "One of the seniors of course, I think the one whose name starts with an N…Neil, I think," she said dreamily. She looked at Vanessa squarely. "I saw you talking to him earlier."

"Oh great," Vanessa thought as she adjusted the waistband of her pajamas. "When was that?" she asked coolly.

"After lunch, in the back foyer."

"That? It was something about our classes."

Theodosia's brow furrowed. "It sure didn't look like it," she muttered crossly.

"Well, what's it to you?" Vanessa wondered as she stepped out of the bathroom. She nodded to some of the younger girls who were traipsing along the hall, laughing and giggling among themselves. "These lights better go out soon," she thought as she slipped into her room.

Once inside, she pulled her coat and her boots out of her closet, and a flashlight out of a desk drawer. She quickly braided back her hair so that it would not catch on anything later. She was already wearing her coat and was about to don the boots when she heard a knock at the door.

"Lights out, O'Donnell!" called Ms. Crawford, the spinster in charge of the ladies.

"Aye aye!" Vanessa shouted, pulling on her boots before turning off the desk lamp. She waited a few moments for the tell-tale sounds of Ms. Crawford turning off the hallway lights before entering her room, and for the deathly silence that followed after.

In the perfect stillness of the night, she could feel her heart crashing against her ribcage, its fearful thud echoing in her ears. However a sheer current of energy, of promise was in her limbs, filling her from head to toe. "_Till rising and gliding out I wander'd off by myself, In the mystical moist night air…" _she whispered as she slipped the flashlight into her coat pocket. She opened the door as quietly as she could and hurried out, remembering to lock the door behind her.

Vanessa crept down the stairs, each wayward squeak ringing much too loudly for her liking. At long last, she was on the first floor. With trembling hands, she opened the annex door a crack and peered out into the front hall.

A flash of motion on the main stairwell caught her gaze. "Over here!" she whispered throatily.

"Van?" Neil asked. He was wearing a sort of hooded cloak that half-concealed his face. He carried with him a flashlight and a large book.

"The one and only," Van replied as she stepped out of the annex and closed the door quietly. She soon caught sight of the other boys on the stairs, all of them wearing cloaks and boots. As they made their way to the back foyer, a dog began to bark.

"Shhh now!" Pitts hissed, tossing some dog biscuits in the animal's direction. As the dog gobbled up the food, the students made their way outdoors and ran across the grounds, in the direction of the woods.

Once they were in the thicket and past the waterfall, everyone turned on their flashlights. "We are so dead for this," Cameron said.

"You know, you can just go back to bed," Vanessa whispered sharply.

"I still can't believe we have a girl here," Cameron complained.

Vanessa was about to say something when she felt a hand on her arm. "Just forget him, he's being a stick in the mud," Neil said in an undertone. "Now isn't the time for arguing. We have to find the cave," he said to the others in a stage whisper. Soon the entire group fanned out to search the vicinity for the cave.

Vanessa gathered up the hems of her pajama pants as she followed Todd towards a hollow. "Don't think it's here," Todd said, shining his flashlight into a tangle of bushes.

"It can't be that far," Vanessa said. Suddenly a yell sounded from nearby, nearly making her drop the flashlight.

"Guys, over here!" Meeks shouted. Vanessa and Todd rushed over towards a worn trail leading to a hollow half-concealed by some foliage. Standing at the entrance to the cave were Meeks and Charlie, both of them holding flashlights.

"Looks like it's going to be chilly in there," Vanessa said, peering into the cave. "Suppose we get some firewood?"

"Shouldn't be hard to get. Hey Pitts, Cameron, give me a bit of a hand here," Knox said from someplace.

Neil by this time had run up behind Vanessa and Todd. "Yep, this is the place," he said, shining his flashlight into the cave and slipping in, followed by Charlie and Meeks. "It's safe guys. No snakes or nasty stuff in here, I think," Neil called from inside.

"Great. I have a trooper for a roommate," Todd said to Vanessa as they watched Knox and Pitts come up, carrying firewood. After passing the twigs and short branches into the cave, the five students entered in.

Vanessa found that she had to stoop to get inside the cave, which was large enough to hold the entire group, but snug enough so that they could sit in a sort of huddle. She found herself a place right between Todd and Knox as the others unsuccessfully attempted to make a fire.

Neil got to his feet, holding the book in one hand and his flashlight in the other. "I hereby reconvene the Dead Poets Society," he said, eliciting cheers from the rest.

"Welton chapter. The meetings will hereby be conducted by myself and the other initiates now present. Todd Anderson, because he prefers not to read, will keep minutes of the meetings," Neil continued, glancing momentarily at his usually silent roommate. "I'll now read the traditional opening message by society member Henry David Thoreau. "_I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life_.""

"I'll second that!" Charlie grinned.

"_To put to rout all that was not life, and not, when I had come to die, discovered that I had not lived," _Neil finished. He nodded as he began flipping through the book. "Mr. Keating marked a few other pages."

"Alright, intermission. Dig deep right here. Lay it down," Charlie said.

"On the mud?" Cameron asked.

Charlie gestured to Meeks. "Put your coat down. Picnic blanket."

"Yes sir, use Meeks' coat," the bespectacled boy said, shaking his head.

"And don't keep anything back either," Charlie added. "You guys are always bumming my smokes."

Meeks spread his coat out on the cave floor, leaving the rest of the students to dump apples, cookies, and other assorted food on it. Vanessa grimaced as a box of raisins came out of someone's pocket, followed by half a roll.

"Hey where did the other half go?" she asked.

"Here," Pitts said with his mouth full.

"Aw come on," Charlie frowned.

"You want me to put it back?"

Vanessa snatched up an apple and bit into it. "Neil, you got that book from Mr. Keating?" she asked him as she wiped the juice from her chin.

"He left it in my room," Neil replied.

"My God, no wonder why they called him a thigh man," Vanessa laughed. "First teacher around here who has the word 'daring' in his vocabulary."

"Couldn't have said it better," Knox agreed.

"Why do they call it an Indian cave anyway?" Vanessa asked.

"According to legend, this cave was where Indians used to hide during some war," Meeks explained. "Shouldn't be surprised if there were ghosts in here."

"Speaking of ghosts, I've got a story," Neil said. He tilted his flashlight as everyone gathered closer. "It was a dark and rainy night, and this old lady, who had a passion for jigsaw puzzles, sat by herself in her house at her table to complete a new jigsaw puzzle. But as she pieced the puzzle together, she realized, to her astonishment, that the image that was formed was her very own room. And the figure in the center of the puzzle, as she completed it, was herself. And with trembling hands, she placed the last four pieces and stared in horror at the face of a demented madman at the window."

Everyone shuddered as Neil shone his flashlight away from his face. "The last thing that this old lady ever heard was the sound of breaking glass."

"Ohh no," Todd whispered.

"This is true," Neil replied.

"I've got one that's even better than that," Cameron said eagerly. "I do. So there's this young, married couple, and they're driving through the forest at night on a long road trip. And they run out of gas and there's this madman-"

"Argh, that again?" Vanessa groaned, knowing the story already.

"The thing with the hand—" Charlie continued as everyone else finished the story, complete with the necessary scraping sound effects.

"I love that story!" Cameron protested.

"I told you that one," Charlie said.

"You did not. I got that in camp in sixth grade."

"When were you in sixth, last year?"

Amid the hubbub of voices, Pitts picked up the book and opened it to a random page. "Here. The Ballad of William Bloat. _In a mean abode in the shanking road, lived a man named William Bloat. Now, he had a wife, the plague of his life, who continually got his goat. And one day at dawn, with her nightshift on, he slit her bloody throat_,"

Everyone began to laugh as Pitts thumbed through the rest of the poem. "It gets worse!" he remarked.

"You want to hear a real poem?" Charlie swaggered. He waved away the book when Meeks handed it to him.

"You memorized a poem?" Neil asked.

"I didn't. Move up," Charlie said, motioning for Neil to give him some room. He looked around, eager for the group's attention. "An original piece by Charles Dalton."

"An original piece?" Knox quipped.

"This is history," Neil said. Vanessa merely rolled her eyes at this.

Charlie cleared his throat and produced a piece of paper from his pocket. He held it up and unfolded it slowly to reveal the centerfold image of Elaine Reynolds from a recent Playboy issue.

"Oh damn. You just _had _to do that," Vanessa muttered as the boys ogled and panned their lights over the photo.

Charlie shot a mischievous glance at her before reading. "_Teach me to love? Go teach thyself more wit. I, chief professor, am of it. The god of love, if there be, may learn to love from me." _

"Did you write that?" Neil asked.

In response, Charlie held up the paper to show where he had written the poem. "Abraham Cowley. So who's next?"

Knox raised his hand to get the book from Meeks. "I hope something good here can top that," he said, flipping through the book. He smiled a little dreamily as he opened to a page. "Here, a little Robert Browning: _That was I, you heard last night, When there rose no moon at all, Nor, to pierce the strained and tight Tent of heaven, a planet small; Life was dead and so was light. Not a twinkle from the fly, Not a glimmer from the worm; When the crickets stopped their cry, When the owls forbore a term, You heard music; that was I." _

"Were you thinking of a certain someone?" Charlie teased.

Knox colored visibly in the dark. "It is none of your business, Charlie."

"Still, I know you meant it. There's nothing wrong," Vanessa reassured Knox.

"If only it could always be that way."

Cameron shook his head. "Can I have my turn then?" He opened the book at random and read from the first poem he saw. "_There was a man of double deed, sowed his garden full of seed. When the seed began to grow, Twas like a garden full of snow. When the now began to melt, twas like a ship without a belt; When the ship began to sail, Twas like a bird without a tail. When the bird began to fly; Twas like an eagle in the sky. When the sky began to roar; Twas like a lion at the door. When the door began to crack, Twas like a stick across my back; When my back began to smart, Twas like a penknife in my heart; When my heart began to bleed, Twas death and death and death indeed." _

Meeks whistled. "Death indeed, huh?"

"In a weird way, it does make some sense," Neil said in an undertone, sounding as if he had been a little frightened.

"Who the hell wrote that?" Charlie asked.

"No one. Anonymous," Cameron replied, handing the book back to Neil. "What have we got next?"

Neil opened the book to another marked page. "Alfred Lord Tennyson, _Come my friends, Tis not too late to seek a newer world for my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset. And though we are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;- One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will. To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield_."

"Deep, deep!" Pitts said, smiling broadly.

"Wish I could read that way," Todd murmured.

"There's more to it, but it's the ending that was highlighted," Neil explained.

"It's apt," Vanessa smiled. If there was anything, she knew, that could describe this band of friends that she had come upon, it had been said in that poem. Gingerly, she took the book from Neil's hands. The volume was surprisingly heavy, and she nearly dropped it. She propped the book up on her knees as she thumbed through it.

"Courtesy of W.E. Henley, "Invictus"," she said at last. "_Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be, for my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced or cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance, my head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears, lies but the Horror of the shade. And yet the passing of the years, finds and shall find me unafraid." _

She looked up at her friends before she finished, already knowing the lines from memory. "_It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul." _She shut her eyes as she handed the book back to her friends, feeling deep down not just the sheer potency of the words, but also a certain quiver of anticipation.

"And of course last, but not the least, Meeks," Neil said, passing the book.

"Let's end this right," Meeks grinned. He opened the book to a much dog-eared page. "This is from Vachael Lindsay," he said, getting up to stand in the middle of the room. He began reading at first as if he was cataloging yet another series of facts, but over time his voice took on a certain rhythm, as if it was a chant.

"_Flat black bucks in a wine barrel room. Barrel house kings with feet unstable. Sagged and reeled and pounded on the table. Pounded on the table. Beat an empty barrel with the handle of a broom,__Hard as they were able,__ Boom, boom, BOOM,__ With a silk umbrella and the handle of a broom,__ Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM. Then I had religion, Then I had a vision. I could not turn from their revel in derision. Then I saw the Congo creeping through the black, cutting through the forest with a golden track." _

Knox picked up a metal container and began drumming on it as Meeks repeated, "_Then I saw the Congo creeping through the black, cutting through the forest with a golden track." _In the rising rhythm of the repetition, Charlie got to his feet, using a comb to add to the beat of the poem. Soon Neil and Knox were also standing up, chanting along with Meeks.

Now thoroughly enthused, Vanessa practically leapt to her feet and joined in. She pulled Todd to his feet before the other boys began circling the cave, beating sticks or twanging combs in time with the verse. Their chanting grew louder and wilder as they now bounded out of the cave, filling the woods with their enthusiasm as they made their way back to the dormitories as the clock struck two.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 (Neil): The Point of Language**

After several years of being a chronic over-sleeper, Neil had already perfected the art of getting ready for class in less than fifteen minutes. "But it's very different when it's not just you who's overslept, but also practically all of your friends," he thought as he quickly knotted his tie. He winced as he felt the continued stinging from a slight nick he had incurred from shaving earlier that morning.

Across the dormitory room, Todd muttered something as he tried to comb his hair. "I can't believe I forgot to set my alarm clock," he complained.

"It happens even to the best of us," Neil said philosophically. He glanced over his shoulder and realized that Todd's tie was still askew. "Do you need help with your tie?"

Todd glanced down and cringed. "I got it wrong again."

"Here, wait a minute," Neil said, going over to help Todd sort out his tie. In a few moments, the offending necktie was in its proper appearance.

"Thanks," Todd said as he began pulling on his blazer. "Neil…"

"What?"

"If we're going to have another meeting, can it be on a weekend? Just so we can all catch up on sleep after?"

"Yep, you've got a point there," Neil replied, going back to his desk to get his things. He figured that he was going to hear something along those lines anyway from the others later. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah."

Neil stepped out in time to nearly collide with Spaz, who was hurrying down the hall. Spaz stopped himself at the last moment, and blinked. "What are you still doing up here, Perry?" he asked.

"I woke up late," Neil replied.

"Again? And Anderson too?" Spaz said. "Seems as if everyone's up late this morning. I heard Cameron running down here."

"And I know why," Neil thought as he, Todd, and Spaz headed straight to their Chemistry class. It was a little too late to have breakfast now, but he hoped that there would be some chance to sneak to the kitchen later.

As luck would have it, the chance did not come until after Chemistry class, nor did it even come after History. Before Latin class, Neil was just doing his best to ignore the sounds of his stomach growling.

In the middle of class, while Mr. McAllister had his back turned to the board, Neil felt someone tap his elbow. "What's going on?" he asked Todd.

Todd nonchalantly held out a roll of bread under the table. "Pitts went to the kitchen," he said, trying to hide the fact that he was chewing.

Neil quickly hid the bread behind his books, even as he noticed Charlie unwrapping a stick of gum. He had managed to stuff the bread in his mouth when Mr. McAllister turned around.

"Is it lunch time already?" he asked testily. "Unless you have been severely deprived of nutrition, there is no reason for anyone to be eating in my class," Mr. McAllister said sharply. His eyes searched the room, clearly looking out for any student who had food out. Unfortunately, his gaze soon trained on Charlie, who was still working on his gum.

"Mr. Dalton! How many times do I have to tell you about eating—"

"Mr. McAllister, I wasn't *eating* it. You can't eat gum," Charlie replied.

"This is going to end with Charlie in detention again," Neil thought. It was all he could do to keep a straight face and to surreptitiously conceal his food right under his notes, even as Mr. McAllister furiously marched up to Charlie's desk. Half the class nearly burst out snickering on realizing that Charlie had more sticks of gum with him as well as chocolate chip cookies.

"Mr. Dalton, what _have_ you been doing in my class?" Mr. McAllister demanded.

"Consuming, Sir," Charlie replied.

"When you mean by consuming, are you referring to Latin, or those misbegotten lumps of sugar you have there?"

"It is possible to do both, Sir."

Before Mr. McAllister could say anything, the bell rang. "Consumtanum est!" Vanessa said a little too loudly.

"Yes, indeed," Mr. McAllister said. "Tomorrow, I expect a 1000 word essay from you, explaining the importance of delayed gratification. If you do not submit the essay, you will suffer deductions in the first exam. Do I make myself clear?"

Charlie bit his lip defiantly before saying, "Yes Sir."

"Good. Class dismissed," Mr. McAllister glowered even as the students began gathering up their things. "Ms. O'Donnell, Latin remedial on Saturday morning."

"He just had to remember," Vanessa thought before giving a nod of acknowledgment and leaving the room to join her friends in the hall.

Charlie gave her a rueful look. "He really has it in for us," he said.

"More for you than for me," Vanessa shrugged. "If only Latin could be as fun as last night was," she added, smiling a little more brightly.

"Yep," Neil grinned. "Aren't you glad you came?"

"I'm glad you asked," Vanessa said. "Though I do hope I won't be dead on my feet before English. I have to thank Charlie for keeping us all awake!"

"At least someone here appreciates my efforts. Don't count on me to arrange something for Trig though," Charlie said as they reached the dining hall. The rest of the day proceeded with its expected ennui, up until English class.

"A man is not tired, he is exhausted!" Mr. Keating said loudly during the lecture. It was clear that he had noticed how exhausted some of his students appeared, therefore he was doing his best to keep them on their toes. "And don't use very sad, use—come on, Mr. Overstreet, you twerp," he added, pointing towards Knox.

Knox looked up from his notes. "Morose?"

"Exactly! Morose," Mr. Keating said. "Now language was invented for only one endeavor, and that is?" He stopped in front of Todd's desk. "Come on, Mr. Anderson, are you a man or an amoeba?"

Todd merely gave Mr. Keating a blank look, but he remained silent. Mr. Keating looked towards the middle of the room. "Mr. Perry?"

"Uh, to communicate?"

"No!" Mr. Keating answered. "To woo women!"

Neil felt his face grow warm as the rest of the class burst out laughing. Much to his relief, even Vanessa was also chuckling despite having also turned red up to her ears.

Vanessa raised her hand after a few moments. "Oh Captain, my Captain, then what _do_ women use language for?" she jokingly asked.

"To determine whether the man should continue his wooing," Mr. Keating replied, eliciting another round of laughter.. "There's the power that lies in the speech, Ms. O'Donnell. Now today, to further demonstrate the fact, we will be talking about William Shakespeare."

"Oh God!" Priske exclaimed as everyone in the class groaned.

Mr. Keating smiled ruefully. "I know. A lot of you look forward to this like you look forward to root canal work. But today, we will talk about Shakespeare who writes something very interesting. Now many of you have seen Shakespeare done something like this:" He stretched out his hands in an exaggerated gesture. "Oh Titus, bring your friend hither. But if any of you have seen Mr. Marlon Brando, you know, Shakespeare can be different. "Friend, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears."

Some of the boys laughed at this impersonation. Much encouraged, Mr. Keating continued, "You can also imagine, maybe, John Wayne as Macbeth going, "Well, is this a dagger I see before me? All of these things you like: high drama, intrigue, action yes, and romance: this was the stuff that drew Shakespeare's audiences to the Globe much in the same way I am sure you all go to the movies."

A stir and a buzzing sounded in class. "And imagine that this week, you're getting a free day off-campus. There's a blockbuster being shown in town. It's the story of a murder, in fact," Mr. Keating said.

"Of who?" Knox asked.

"The murder of a man, while his son was away at school. Now when this son returns home, he finds that his mother has remarried-of all persons his uncle, and that his sweetheart is being banned from seeing him. To top it all off, there's a ghost roaming the house," Mr. Keating said. "Sounds familiar?"

"That's Hamlet," Neil said after a moment.

"Yes. Not a bad plot, don't you think?" Mr. Keating said. "Now what about a war hero, who while on his way home, receives a message that he is going to become the next President? He's not a senator, just an ordinary war hero. It just so happens too that the President is visiting his house that day. What is he going to do? Obviously he can't just ask for the job."

"I don't know, kill him?" Hopkins said flippantly.

"Congratulations, Mr. Hopkins, you have just described Macbeth."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 (Vanessa): Damsels In No Distress**

"If that's the case, then what _am_ I in school for?"

"Come now Gwen, I am so sure that Mr. Langston did not really mean that!"

Vanessa had resolved not to ever eavesdrop, but on hearing this plaintive exchange, she carefully put down her notebook and turned her attention to the two girls sitting in the front row of the classroom one Saturday morning. It was barely past eight o'clock, and most of the other students at Welton were still asleep.

"Well, what's going on?" she asked, pulling up her chair. "You can tell me; I think Ms. Crawford is still stuck in the shower."

Marianne, a wispy-haired sophomore with green eyes and a rather pudgy figure, patted the bony back of her sobbing friend. "It's just Gwen being silly. She had a row with one of the boys in her Biology class and the teacher Mr. Langston told her that yes, she may have been right, but there was no point in fighting it out since for a girl, knowing Biology isn't useful. It's an "ornament" as he said."

Vanessa's jaw dropped. "What was the point of him saying that?"

"He says that to all the girls in his classes," Annie drawled as she entered from the back of the room with Theodosia in tow. "And he isn't the only one who does."

"What happened?" Gwen asked, wiping off her tear-streaked face.

"Well when Theodosia, Annabelle, and the other girls do badly in Math, Dr. Hager says it's because we're girls," Annie explained. "He doesn't notice that I do well myself."

"Nor me," Vanessa replied. Now that she thought about it, Dr. Hager almost never called on her in class, and usually when he did, it was to comment on the "lack of precision" in her work. "He never has a good thing to say about anything I do, even if my work is just as good as Cameron's or Neil's," she said.

"I know it isn't easy here in Welton," Marianne said quietly. "But I know I can do it. My mother says I'm a genius."

"You're lucky. My father says I'm nothing beside my brothers!" Gwen bawled.

"Does it really matter?" Theodosia asked. "I mean there are just some things that boys usually do."

"But that doesn't mean we can't at least try to be as good or even better than they are," Vanessa said. "Simone de Beauvoir said that "One is not born a genius, one becomes a genius". Really, there's hope for us yet."

"Yeah, in this place where all the boys *still* get the credit. I can do as well as my classmates—my seatmate Danford always needs help and he's barely passing, and yet I still get disregarded a lot," Annie said.

"None of these guys know how it is to be a girl," Gwen said bitterly, pulling her sodden brown hair out of her face. "I'd love to see them try to wear a skirt or something, or to put up with all the pain we get from them."

"Girls, back to your seats," Ms. Crawford said as she crossed to the teacher's desk. She squinted as she saw Gwen's tear-streaked face. "My goodness, Gwen, what happened?" she asked.

"She's had trouble in class, Ma'am." Marianne explained.

"With the boys? I'll report it to Mr. Nolan."

"Not the boys, but Mr. Langston," Vanessa said. "He and Gwen don't see eye to eye on what she can do."

Ms. Crawford threw up her hands resignedly. "Well it was worse in my day; girls wouldn't have been in a place like this at all, and we really didn't do much of anything. You girls have a chance to go to college and to make something of yourselves after this."

""I know, but it doesn't make what Mr. Langston did as something correct," Vanessa pointed out.

Ms. Crawford sighed before opening her bag. "Today girls, we have to discuss social graces and etiquette. You probably already know this, so we can make this quick."

"And I can get back to studying before my Latin remedial," Vanessa thought. She drummed her pen idly on her notebook before raising her hand. "Ms. Crawford?"

"What now, Ms. O'Donnell?"

"Is it really proper etiquette for a girl to always let the man win?"

"I wouldn't say it's etiquette, but it's just what happens," Ms. Crawford said tentatively. "Though in what arenas you could possibly want to engage in a competition with them, I don't know."

"What she means to ask," Theodosia began in a snide voice, "Is if it's a good idea to show off in her classes, at risk of ruining her chances with a certain boy or two."

"I'm enrolled here at Welton to excel, that's why I'm asking," Vanessa retorted.

"Right," Theodosia simpered. "Tell that to Neil Perry later, I dare you."

Vanessa sat up straight, as if she had been doused with cold water. "_Excuse_ me?"

"Girls! If you must quarrel about these matters, save it for elsewhere," Ms. Crawford scolded. "All the more I am convinced that you ladies need etiquette lessons. First, let's start by reviewing posture—how to stand, sit and walk."

Throughout the entire lesson, Vanessa just kept quiet, ignoring the glares that Theodosia kept shooting at her. "I can't believe it. She actually considers me _a rival_?" she thought as she watched the younger girls get up to demonstrate how to walk with a book perched on one's head. "I just happen to be around Neil a lot," she thought. It was just something that the other girls wouldn't understand.

She saw Marianne standing to one side, watching this scene with a grim look. Vanessa went over to stand with her. "You alright?"

Marianne nodded as she put her hands in her pockets. "I just can't help but remember what happened to Gwen. The sort of thing happens to us all the time. I wish we could do something about it, but I don't know how."

"Have you ever talked to anyone about it?"

"Will it change anything?"

"Words have power," Vanessa replied. "I mean, it's worth at least letting someone know about it. You can't say it's for lack of trying then."

Marianne eyed her skeptically. "What would you do?"

"Something," Vanessa whispered as a plan began to take shape in her mind, even as she was called forward to demonstrate her walk.

By the time that class ended, the rest of the school was coming down for breakfast. When Vanessa arrived at the dining hall, she caught sight of her friends talking rather animatedly among themselves.

"You woke up late," Knox commented as Vanessa took a seat.

"I've been awake longer than you guys have. Saturday morning class, remember?" Vanessa said, piling some bread and scrambled eggs on her plate.

"School paper deadline tomorrow," Charlie said. "It's just nothing but brown-nosing. I don't know how you put up with it, Vanessa."

"But at least I get to write," Vanessa said more cheerily. "I've been itching to try since I got here. I may have an idea to pursue for this week's issue."

"Study group later? There's that big Chemistry exam up for Monday," Cameron asked, waving his spoon in the air.

"Yeah, I could use some help on that. Neil, Vanessa, would you mind sharing some of that advanced knowledge of yours?" Charlie asked.

Neil put down the piece of toast he was buttering. "I've got no problems with that. What about you, Van?"

Vanessa shook her head. "I wish I could guys, but I've got to brush up on my Latin before the exam on Wednesday," she said a little glumly.

"Don't you have Latin remedial?" Neil asked.

"After breakfast."

"Well next study group, you can also ask Meeks for help," Knox suggested. "And Neil isn't doing so badly either."

Much to Vanessa's amusement, Neil's cheeks turned pink for a moment. "Just because I happened to do a little better in the last exam," he muttered.

"Thanks but I think I can handle this on my own. I'll tell you guys if I need help," Vanessa said before taking another bite of scrambled egg. The truth was that she sometimes found it a little difficult to focus whenever her friends got a little too chatty or enthusiastic. "And when Neil is around, it's practically contagious," she decided.

Fortunately, she found out that Mr. McAllister proved to be an efficient and even considerate tutor, quite a far cry from the uptight teacher he usually was. "If you perform this well on the exam, I may decide to let you stop remedial," he informed her at the end of the session.

"I did tell Mr. Nolan that I was in an extra Latin class in my old high school," Vanessa said. "And I have been getting help from some of my friends."

"Ah yes. The best and the worst of the lot," Mr. McAllister said knowingly. "I hope that Mr. Dalton's utter disregard for rules does not rub off on you."

"I do have discretion, Sir."

"A lot like your stepfather," Mr. McAllister said. "I knew him when I was a first year teacher here. I am glad that some of his better ways have rubbed off on you and your younger brother."

The very mention of her stepfather sent Vanessa's stomach churning. "I am more of my mother's daughter," she replied rather brusquely. "She's the one who raised me much of the time, actually."

"I see," Mr. McAllister said, clearly recognizing that he had treaded on dangerous territory. "You're dismissed. See you in class on Monday."

Vanessa waited for the teacher to turn back to reading his books before storming out the door. "Why the hell does this always have to keep on coming up?" she thought as she headed back up to her room. No matter what she could do, she never could escape the realities of her life: that she was a girl, that she happened to have an influential stepfather, and that she was not living up to the expectations presented in her situation.

"No wonder why Simone de Beauvoir wrote!" she yelled once she was alone in her quarters. Now feeling spent from the late night and the early day, she collapsed onto her bed, letting sleep overtake her in a few moments.

When she awoke to the clock striking three, she felt as if her mouth was dry and her eyes burned from her restless sleep. "How did I manage to miss lunch?" she wondered as she watched the golden afternoon sun beams slant through her window into her dingy room. She changed out of her uniform into a comfortable red sweater and black pants before grabbing her notebook and pen, then heading outside.

It was not long till she reached the spot she had been heading for: a tree that commanded a good view of the stream as well as the soccer field. Vanessa made herself comfortable in the shade, propping her notebook on her knees so she could write. She willed herself to keep her pen on the paper, ignoring the orders being barked to the rowers, the shouts and hollers from the soccer field, and the occasional catcall from anyone who happened to notice her presence.

She had managed to cover about two pages when she heard footsteps running in her direction. "Van?" Neil's voice called.

Somehow she found herself looking right at him. He was dressed in a red soccer uniform, which was now soaked through with sweat. His dark eyes were merry under the afternoon sun that seemed to catch in his hair, turning it a warm shade of reddish brown "How nice…" she thought before she remembered she had to speak. "Don't you have a game, Neil?" she asked him.

"Yep, but we're getting a timeout," Neil replied. "What are you doing out here?"

"Getting ideas, or rather, trying to write them down," Vanessa said with a laugh. She rested her chin on her knuckles. "It's for the paper."

"What were you thinking of writing?" Neil asked as he stood beside her.

"Something about being a girl. How it is to be here," Vanessa replied. She looked at him keenly, wondering if she should tell him about what she knew of the troubles of the other students. "You don't think it will cause too much trouble?"

"Maybe. It could be interesting," Neil said with an encouraging grin. "Not to mention maybe even historic."

"Yeah, historic," Vanessa murmured. "That's why I love being a journalist."

"That's why I wish I was still with the school annual," Neil said softly.

Vanessa nodded, knowing better than to pursue the matter. "Say Neil, would you know where I can get a typewriter? The school paper office is closed today, and I need to type up my article," she asked after a moment.

"You can use mine."

"Wow, you've got one?"

"Penmanship problems," Neil said confidentially. "My room is unlocked. Just don't let Hager catch you there."

"Got it," Vanessa nodded just as someone else ran up to them.

"Neil, we're back in the game," Todd said breathlessly as he held on to his knees to keep from falling over. His face was completely red as he nodded to Vanessa by way of greeting. "We have to go."

"Sure," Neil said. "See you later," he added as he began to run back to the field.

"Thanks!" Vanessa called after him. She waited for a few moments, watching as Neil and Todd ran together, clearly discussing something. The two boys were such a study in contrast, she reflected. There was Todd, with his blustering and rather sweet manners, his laconic but true speech, and his calm and steady presence. However there was also Neil, the flamboyant one, the one with warm eyes, and passion personified.

"It only makes perfect sense that they stick together," she thought as she gathered up her things and returned to the dormitory building. She quickly stole up to the boys' room, remembering now which door it was from her first disastrous visit to this part of the hall. She found the door unlocked, just as Neil had said.

The room was quite cramped, Vanessa thought as she entered and locked the door behind her. In fact it was far too small for two boys of Neil and Todd's size. She stepped past a pile of books and some discarded socks in order to reach the typewriter on the desk. She pulled out some sheets of typewriting paper from underneath the book _Five Hundred Centuries of Verse_.

As she wrote on, lulled by the clarity of the words on the paper and the rhythm of the typewriter keys, she did not even notice the light turning reddish-gold in the window, nor even the growing chill of the room. As she finished the last paragraph, she heard the door swing open slowly.

"Y-you're still here?" she heard Todd ask from behind her.

"I was just finishing up," Vanessa replied, turning around to face him. "I'm sorry, it was really an emergency. The article is due on Monday."

"No, it's fine, really," Todd said as he walked towards where he had left his clothes on his bed. However he stopped behind her chair, as if caught by something she had written.

"Oh. You're sending that, Van?" he asked after a moment.

"And what about it?"

"Nothing."

"Just say it, Todd. No one's going to kill you for it."

Todd's cheeks reddened as he picked up his clean clothes. "I just never thought I mean, it's not as if girls shouldn't say anything, but it's not what usually happens."

"Todd, it's 1959, not the 19th century," Vanessa pointed out. "And it's not as if I mean to cause trouble."

Todd shook his head. "You're so much like Neil and Charlie."

"Unfortunately for me!" Vanessa laughed. "What do you think of this: "_But really, I am neither for nor against institutions, What indeed have I in common with them or the destruction of them?" _

"You could only say something like that in Mr. Keating's class."

"I know. It's Whitman."

Todd smiled with wry understanding before leaving to shower.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 (Neil): Of Quiet Desperation**

Even after the first few meetings of the Dead Poets Society, there was no telling just what kind of poems would be read at each meeting. "At least it keeps life interesting," Neil thought on Monday night as he took a drag on his cigarette amid the applause that ensued after Meeks had finished a reading from Keats.

"What was Keats on something when he wrote that?" Cameron wondered aloud.

"Well, there's something I found that's even more out there," Pitts said, lifting the book from Meeks' lap. He flipped through it before finding a page he had folded over some days before. "It's from Kubla Khan by Coleridge: "_In Xanadu did Kubla Khan, A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran, Through caverns measureless to man, Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground. With walls and towers were girdled round: And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery." _

"Oh it goes on by the way, and it gets weirder," he added as an afterthought.

Neil peeked at the still-open book. "Yep, he was definitely on something alright." He poked a stick into the fire, which was threatening to die under the cold breeze that had unexpectedly whipped up that night.

"Story has it he was on laudanum or something worse," Vanessa observed, curling up in her corner.

"He might have been," Charlie said. "And anything is possible my friends, when one has imbibed of the nectar of the gods."

"Right. So are you going to read something to prove that point?" Knox asked.

"No, I've got something more potent in mind, Knoxious," Charlie said. "I'm surprised you guys haven't gotten to this yet."

"Oh really, what is it?" Neil asked as he handed a flashlight to Charlie.

"Dylan Thomas," Charlie said, moving so that he had more headroom. His voice lost its usual braggadocio, and instead took on a more firm, almost haunting tone as he read these lines: "_Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night." _

For a moment, no one in the cave dared to say anything. It was Charlie himself who broke the silence by closing the book. "I dare anyone to mail that to Nolan," he said before lighting up another cigarette.

"Or to my father," Neil almost said. Still the thought weighed heavily on his mind, about how his father had so seemingly fallen into the trap of a secure, upstanding life, and expected him to follow likewise. "No way, not if I can help it," he thought.

"He'd rage alright, but not in the way we want it," Vanessa said. "Mind if I go next? I've got something a little different in mind—even if you boys want to talk about fire and whimsy tonight."

"Well it's cold," Todd said, rubbing his hands together.

"Yeah, but this is something I've wanted to read for some time now," Vanessa said, moving in a more comfortable position. "At any rate, it's a perspective check for you boys and a reminder for me," she added as she pulled a paper out of her coat pocket.

"Is that your Latin assignment?" Neil asked, noticing some tell-tale scribbles on the back of the sheet of ruled paper.

"It was a draft of it," Vanessa said with undisguised mischief. "Gentlemen, Whitman's Unfolded Out of the Folds: _Unfolded out of the folds of the woman, man comes unfolded, and is always to come unfolded; Unfolded only out of the inimitable poem of the woman, can come the poems of man—(only thence have my poems come;) Unfolded out of the folds of the woman's brain, come all the folds of the man's brain, duly obedient; A man is a great thing upon the earth, and through eternity—but every jot of the greatness of man is unfolded out of woman, First the man is shaped in the woman, he can then be shaped in himself." _

"Holy shit, Whitman wrote _that_?" Meeks blurted out after a few awkward moments of silence.

"He's got more vivid stuff," Vanessa said. "There's a copy of his book of poems in the library. I'm honestly surprised it survived the censors."

"Thanks Van, now none of us are at risk of going blind tonight," Charlie said half-accusingly. "I did not want to think of that."

"Well, everyone's got to come from _someplace_," Vanessa retorted, putting her hands in her lap. "There are more ways to look at a woman other than on a centerfold!"

"Hey guys, maybe we can deal with this later…" Todd said awkwardly, looking at the minutes in his hands.

"Thank God for you, Todd," Neil thought as he fished in his pocket for the paper where he'd copied down a poem earlier in the day. "Alright, shall we continue this meeting?" he asked casually.

"Fine. What have you got there?" Vanessa said, giving him a sidelong glance.

"Little Gidding. It's by Eliot," Neil replied as he unfolded the paper. He stoked the fire again before reading: "_The dove descending breaks the air__. __With flame of incandescent terror. Of which the tongues declare, The one discharge from sin and error. The only hope, or else despair Lies in the choice of pyre of pyre—To be redeemed from fire by fire. Who then devised the torment? Love. Love is the unfamiliar Name Behind the hands that wove The intolerable shirt of flame. Which human power cannot remove. We only live, only suspire, Consumed by either fire or fire_."

From far off, the clock at Welton struck two. Cameron clucked his tongue as he put his hands in his pockets. "We'd better go. It's getting late."

Neil nodded as he helped his friends kick some dirt over the fire. He stretched before picking up the book and tucking it under his coat. "At least we do not have any exams or anything to pass tomorrow."

"So are you burning for anyone now, Neil?" Charlie teased. "Or are you going to be like Knox here and keep it all a secret?"

"It's not as if any of you could do anything about it to help me," Knox retorted as he adjusted his scarf while they left the cave.

"Why not?" Charlie said. "We are the only love gods."

"Hah! As if you ever had a girl yourself!" Neil chuckled.

"It's not for lack of trying, Perry," Charlie retorted. "Just yesterday, one of the junior girls said she'd love to go out with me."

"All talking but no acting," Pitts commented, much to the laughter of the boys.

"It's better than nothing, Pittsie!"

In the meantime, Neil noticed that Vanessa had trailed to the back of the group. He slowed down his steps so she could catch up. "Are you alright?" he asked. In the half-light he could see that she had gone pale, and she seemed slightly hunched over.

"Not really. I feel a little sick," Vanessa said softly. "It's that time of the month."

"That time of the month?" Neil repeated confusedly.

"It's a girl thing."

Neil cringed, suddenly remembering some jokes that had been made on the sly back in Biology class. "Anything I can do to help?"

She shook her head. "Maybe just make sure that I don't pass out," she said. "Remember that article I drafted?

"What about it?"

"It's not going to run until I edit it-or I'll risk getting pilloried by the entire school, even some of you students."

Neil shrugged. "Who cares?"

"I don't. The others do," Vanessa said wryly. A smile played on her lips as she looked at him again. "I liked that poem you read."

"I just happened to find it by accident."

"It suits you," Vanessa said, smiling at him. "You're in love, Neil, even if it's not in a romantic sense. You love life so much that it's practically contagious."

"And I love life so much that it hurts," Neil thought. The truth was that there were times that he felt that it was only his skin and bones holding him together, that his energy was so boundless that he could easily fly into a thousand parts to do _anything_. If only, he sometimes thought, there was something he could put all his relentless energy into. Something worthwhile, he decided, much more than medical school, academic work, or whatever else that was being expected of him. "Something I can own," he knew.

He noticed that Vanessa had stopped walking. "This is the first time I think I ever liked being here, in Vermont," she said, looking up towards where the moon was now setting behind the trees. "New Jersey was definitely not as nice as this, scenery speaking, but I felt at home there."

"You've been there?" Neil asked incredulously. He had only ever heard of that place in the news, and in some slightly pointed jokes at school.

"I used to live there," Vanessa grinned. "That was before my Mom remarried and we moved. I mean, Vermont is as safe as anything, but there's no adventure here. It's like I'm supposed to be as pure as the snow that falls up here."

"So you want to go back to New Jersey after graduation?"

"No. I was thinking of heading to New York to write. You?"

Neil shrugged. "My parents want me in Harvard. But if I could, I'd go to New York too, but to act." He shook his head at the idea. There was just no way he was ever going to be allowed to do it.

"Actually I won't be going to New York if my stepfather has his way," Vanessa confessed. "But you know, if there was a way, a scholarship, a way to leave home, I'd do it in an instant!"

"You sound desperate," Neil observed.

"No more than you are," Vanessa said before they continued walking in silence. It was almost three in the morning when they arrived at the dormitory.

"Hey Van," he said before she could enter the annex. The other boys had already raced back to their rooms.

"Yeah?" Vanessa asked.

"Maybe you're right," he told her. "I am desperate."

"Then do something about it."

"You really think I should?"

"I think you can," Vanessa smiled. "I believe in you."

The sight of this somehow made Neil smile as well. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he said.

"Glad to give it. Good night," she said before hurrying back to her quarters.

Fortunately for everyone, English was their first class the next day. "The one class you can't sleep through even if you tried," Neil decided. Any sleepiness he had felt earlier was summarily dispelled when towards the end of the period, Mr. Keating jumped up on his desk.

"Why do I stand up here? Anybody?" he asked.

"To feel taller?" Charlie asked.

"No!" Mr. Keating said, pressing the bell on his desk using his foot. "I stand here to remind myself that we must constantly look at things in a different way." He surveyed the classroom for a few moments. "The world looks very different from up here. You don't believe me? Come see for yourself."

That was all it took for Neil, followed by Charlie, Vanessa, and then the rest of their friends to leave their seats. Neil was the first of his class to climb onto the desk. At first, the sudden gain in elevation nearly disconcerted him. After a moment, he put a foot forward and looked around. It was a whole new view he had never contemplated before; the ceiling had never seemed so low, nor had the room seemed so cluttered. Despite the sheer uniformity of the desks and chairs, Neil could still pinpoint the little touches and personal belongings that made each place in the classroom unique. "Does Mr. Keating see all of this?" he wondered before leaving the desk, with Charlie following suit a few moments later. He offered a hand to Vanessa to help her off the desk. Her fingers were warm as they wrapped around his before she jumped off the desk.

"Hey thanks," Vanessa said, letting go of his hand after a moment.

Neil caught himself smiling even amid the wolf-whistles of some of his classmates. "Just ignore them," he thought as he watched his other friends take their turns on the desk.

"Just when you think you know something, you have to look at it in another way. Even though it may seem silly or wrong, you must try! Now, when you read, don't just consider what the author thinks. Consider what you think." Mr. Keating said as other members of the class climbed on the desk. "You must strive to find your own voice. Because the longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all. Thoreau said, "Most men lead lives of quiet desperation." Don't be resigned to that. Break out!"

Neil glanced at Vanessa, who was now standing nearby, crossing her arms. "Thoreau said it damn straight," she whispered.

He nodded wryly by way of agreement. "You could say we're escaping it in our own way," he pointed out.

"I know, but it isn't enough," Vanessa said. "I wonder where you'll be after this, Neil. You can go anywhere and be someone great."

"And you?"

"I can only hope I'll be given the chance to get there."

Before Neil could say anything to this, the bell began to ring. Over this sound and the clock tolling, he heard Mr. Keating say, "Now, in addition to your essays, I would like you to compose a poem of your own, an original work."

Everyone groaned in the class. Mr. Keating chanted jokingly while flickering the lights on and off. "That's right. It has to be an original work to be read aloud in class on Monday. Bonne chance, gentlemen, Ms. O'Donnell."

Neil looked up in time to see Todd, the last one in line, get up on the desk. "By the way, Mr. Anderson," Mr. Keating called from the doorway, nearly stopping Todd in his tracks.

"Don't think I don't know that this assignment scares the hell out of you, you mole," the teacher said much to the laughter of the class as Todd jumped down.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 (Vanessa): Of Raw Inspiration**

"If in Edison's case, failures were just ways _not_ to make inventions, in my case, this is simply called censorship," Vanessa fumed silently as she stalked out of the school paper office and back towards her own room the next day. Her head still ached from the Latin exam she had taken earlier that morning, and she was in absolutely no mood to brook contradiction.

"Van! Hey, what's happened to you?" Annie called from her room.

"Censorship, that's what!" Vanessa shouted, holding up her "corrected" article. "They added even _more_ corrections to my work, and ran it without asking!"

Annie flinched at this. "Will you be alright?"

"Uh-uh."

"Theodosia and I are hanging out. You want to come?"

"Well…" Vanessa began. While she would have loved to simply let her hair down and talk of lighter matters, she was feeling far too wound up to deal with Theodosia. Besides, there was a meeting of the Dead Poets that afternoon. "Maybe after class on Saturday, Annie. I've got things to do now," she said.

Annie nodded understandingly. "Hope to see you then," she said before retreating back into her room.

Vanessa sighed as she looked at her article. "To think they had the gall to give me another assignment," she muttered. She went into her room and changed out of her uniform into a blue blouse and white pants. After shoving her article under a pile of books, she picked up her notebook and pen. Instead of heading outside, she went straight for the door leading to the boys' side of the dormitory.

She knocked on Neil and Todd's door. "Who's there?" Todd asked.

"Just me. I need to use the typewriter," Vanessa replied.

After a few moments, Todd opened the door. Like Vanessa, he also had a notebook and pen in hand. He was also dressed in a more casual black sweater and khaki pants. "School paper again?" he asked.

"Maybe yes, or maybe not," Vanessa said as she entered the room. She took a seat on the chair near the desk before opening her notebook on her lap. "You?"

"English homework," Todd replied, nearly hiding his notebook.

"Don't worry. I wasn't planning to read it."

Todd shrugged before sitting back on his bed to write. Vanessa picked up a sheet of paper and fed it into the typewriter. However she found she could only get as far as a few lines until frustration kicked in. "Forget journalism. I think I'll take to poetry today," she thought as she tore the paper out. She opened her notebook on her lap and began to write down a few lines about the first thing that came to mind. "_The sun like fiery liquor, streaming over my skin…" _

Just then, Neil entered the room, laughing and grinning ear to ear. Like Todd, he was also dressed in a sweater and pants, only that his sweater was green. He had with him a flyer, which he held up as he sat on his bed. "I found it," he said gleefully.

"Found what?" Todd asked, turning over his writing pad.

"What I wanna do right now. What's really, really inside me," Neil said.

Vanessa looked over at the flyer and felt a smile crossing her face. It was none other than a casting call for a play. "A Midsummer Night's Dream?" she asked.

"Oh yes," Neil replied.

"What about it?" Todd asked.

"It's a play, dummy."

"I know that. But w-w-hat does it have to do with you?" Todd pressed on.

"Right. They're putting it on at Henley Hall," Neil replied. "Open tryouts. Open tryouts!" he exclaimed.

Vanessa stopped writing altogether. "What now then?" she asked.

Neil pounded on his bed before throwing his blanket over his shoulders like a cloak as he began to pace the room excitedly. "I'm going for it. I'm going to act. Yes! Yes! I'm going to be an actor! Ever since I could remember, I've wanted to try this. I even tried to go to summer stock auditions last year but, of course, my father wouldn't let me. For the first time in my life, I know what I want to do."

He picked up a handful of papers off his desk. "And for the first time, I'm going to do it whether my father wants me to or not! Carpe Diem!" he shouted exuberantly, throwing the papers up in the air.

Todd shook his head as he caught some of the sheets of paper. "Neil, hold on a minute. How are you going to be in a play if your father's not going to let you?"

"First I gotta get the part, then I'll worry about that," Neil said determinedly.

"Yeah, but won't he kill you if he finds out that you went to an audition without telling him?" Todd asked.

"No, no, no. As far as I'm concerned, he won't have to know about any of this."

"That's impossible."

"Bullshit! Nothing's impossible!"

"Well maybe if y-you called him and asked permission, maybe he'll say yes," Todd suggested.

"That's a laugh!" Neil retorted, tossing the blanket back on the bed.

Vanessa regarded him for a moment before turning to face him fully. "Todd's got a point. I mean, parents always find out about these things, trust me," she said. "What have you got to lose by calling him to ask?"

"If I don't ask him, at least I won't be disobeying him," Neil argued.

"Yeah but if he said-" Todd began.

"Jesus, Todd! Van! Whose side are you two on?" Neil exploded angrily. Todd swallowed hard while Vanessa's eyes widened. Neil shook his head as he went to the window and looked out for a moment.

"I mean, I haven't even gotten the part yet. Can't I even enjoy the idea for a little while?" he asked, sounding defeated as he sat on the heater.

Todd didn't say anything as he got back to writing. Vanessa put her notebook on the desk before walking up to him. "Neil?" she asked concernedly, placing her hand lightly on his shoulder.

She felt him lean into her touch as he turned to look at her with a desperate light in his eyes. "It's my one chance, Van. If I don't do it, then I don't know if I'll ever get to do anything that I actually want to do," he said.

"If it's your one chance, you should give it your best shot, right?" she pointed out.

"I know. I just don't want to ruin it. I'll do what I have to do," he said ruefully.

Vanessa squeezed his shoulder. "It's up to you now. Audition's when?"

"It's this Friday."

"Well you have tomorrow to decide."

"And tomorrow to decide what part to read."

"Now we have a meeting later, right?"

"Yep," Neil said a little more brightly. He looked at Todd. "You're coming to the meeting?" he asked.

Todd shrugged unsurely. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Nothing that Mr. Keating says means shit to you does it, Todd?" Neil asked.

"W-what do you mean?" Todd asked, putting down his pen again.

"You're in the club! Being in the club means being stirred up by things. You look about as stirred up as a cesspool!" Neil said as he got to his feet.

"So you want me out?" Todd asked.

"No! I want you in. But being in means you've got to do something, not just say you're in," Neil replied.

"Well listen Neil, I appreciate this concern, but I-I'm not like you. All right? I'm nothing l-like you and Van." Todd argued. "Y-you say things and people listen, and it's so easy for you. I'm not like that."

"Don't you think you could be?" Neil retorted.

"No! I don't know, but that's not the point," Todd said, looking up at Neil. "The point is that there's nothing you can do about it, so you can just butt out. Alright? I can take care of myself just fine. All right?"

"No."

Todd's face grew perplexed. "What do you mean no?"

Neil smiled widely. "No." In one swift movement, he grabbed Todd's poetry notebook, and raced across the room, jumping on his bed.

Todd leaped up and ran after his roommate in an attempt to get the poem back. "Give me—Neil, give that back!"

Before Vanessa could do anything, Neil spied her notebook and snatched it up as well. "Drop that! It's still unfinished!" she yelled as she ran after him.

"We're dreaming of a-Poetry!" Neil laughed as he read from Todd's notebook. "I'm being chased by Walt Whitman! Okay, okay…" he said as dropped both notebooks.

At that moment, Cameron opened the door. "What are you guys doing? There's this Chemistry-" he began before Neil snatched the book out of his hands. Cameron jumped up on Todd's bed to join the chase.

"Hey give it to me! Neil! Don't be immature!" Cameron shouted. In response, Neil tossed the book to Vanessa, who caught it before passing it to Todd.

"Give it to me! Give it to me!" Charlie called as he entered the room. Todd threw the book back at Neil, who tossed it right at Charlie.

"Hey guys! I need that back!" Cameron exclaimed as all five of them continued running about the room, with Charlie thumping the bongos and Neil blowing notes on a recorder.

"Hager's coming!" someone shouted from outside.

"Oh shit!" Vanessa yelled. She jumped right down on the floor. "Where do I go?"

"The closet, quick!" Neil said. Vanessa lost no time jumping into this hiding place just as the other boys found places to sit throughout the room.

She willed herself to stay small and hidden between the boys' jackets, which were hanging right in front of her face. Through a small crack, she could see Neil trying to look nonchalant as he sat on his bed. Cameron was muttering as he smoothed out his abused Chemistry book. Charlie had hidden the bongos under Todd's bed, and was pretending to be studying notes, while Todd had returned to writing poetry, but this time at the desk.

"Gentlemen, what was that racket all about?" Hager asked from the doorway.

"Nothing Sir. Just a misplaced book," Charlie replied.

"It is an awful lot for such a cause, Mr. Dalton."

"It got a little out of hand, Sir," Neil said sheepishly, moving to hide a footprint on the sheets.

Hager coughed, as if surveying the boys intently. "I hope you boys haven't been hiding one of the girls in here, or there will be demerits for all of you," he warned before leaving the doorway.

Vanessa sagged against the back of the closet, now feeling faint at having almost been discovered. After a few moments, she took a deep breath and opened the door. "Guys, that was too close," she said breathily as she stepped out of the closet.

"You know how much trouble we almost got into?" Cameron said indignantly.

"Alright, but we're not going to do it again," Neil replied, holding up a hand. He looked at Vanessa concernedly. "Are you alright?"

She nodded calmly, though inwardly it was all she could do not to burst out laughing. "You know, it's much too good a day to stay inside."

"There's only one place to go from here," Neil said, retrieving _Five Hundred Centuries of Verse_ from the desk.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 (Neil): The New Person Drawn Towards Me**

"_Thou speakest right! I am that merry wanderer of the night!" _

Neil looked up from the copy of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ in time to see Vanessa's face twist with barely restrained laughter. "You say it much too seriously!" she finally blurted out.

"How am I supposed to say it then?" Neil asked. His gaze wandered to where Vanessa's hands had seemingly drifted away from his typewriter. "Is she ever going to get back to writing?" he wondered. What had initially been a study-and-writing session was now turning into an uproarious reading of Shakespeare, thanks to the presence of a copy of Shakespeare's plays that Todd had borrowed earlier in the day.

Vanessa leaned in with a mischievous look on her face. In the fading glow of the early evening, her black hair seemed to shimmer, and the severe angles of her face appeared to soften. "Try saying it the way Mr. Keating announces that he's in the room. Sans the booming voice of course. Maybe you could try it like how you were yesterday, when you grabbed Todd's notebook."

Neil cleared his throat before leaping up from his seat on the bed. "_Thou speakest right! I am that merry wanderer of the night! I jest to Oberon and make him smile, When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, Neighing in the likeness of a filly foal." _

"Oh! Much better!" Vanessa grinned. "Now you sound like you really are capable of mischief!"

"This Shakespeare business is tougher than I thought," Neil remarked as he flipped through the pages of the script. Still, he felt the exhilaration in his blood as he read through the lines. "It's as if I have to bring Robin Goodfellow to the fore," he said after a few moments.

"That's sort of what you have to do," Vanessa said. She glanced back towards her half-finished article. "Now you've got me, Neil. I can't possibly continue this boring drivel that they want me to write."

Neil smiled wryly at the lifeless text on the paper. "It's not you."

"You got that right," Vanessa said, shaking her head. "I've got half a mind to play a sneak and, I don't know, insert something that will get past the administration. On the other hand, half my mind is intent on going for refuge in audacity."

"The second one sounds more fun. If you're going to do something, you may as well do it right."

"At risk of expulsion."

Neil shrugged before picking up the play script again. "I think I'll really have to read for the part of Puck. I don't think I can do Oberon."

"What happened to Demetrius, Lysander, and Theseus?" Vanessa asked, moving her chair closer to where he was seated.

"Maybe I'd do Lysander, but not Demetrius. He's a little too mean," Neil explained. Besides, he thought, what fun could there be in characters that seemed to spend their on-stage time bickering about women? "Maybe I'll read for Bottom."

"Don't!"

"And why not?"

"It's not you," Vanessa said. "You're funny, Neil, but you're not an ass."

"You have no idea of some of the stuff I've done," Neil pointed out. While he considered himself to be generally more restrained and less likely to take foolish risks than say, Charlie would, he did have a history of some minor misdemeanors.

"Really? Try me then?"

"I did lie to my parents about my grades, before they sent me to summer school. It took them some time to find out I got a B+."

"Everyone lies."

"Well…" Neil began, wondering what story he could relate without sounding too indelicate. "I was horrible enough to sneak a chili into Knox's food during our first year here," he said.

"Oh please. I glued my own seatmate in my sophomore year, and took photos of that to boot. That's mean. I bet you can't even act like an ass if you tried."

"I'm hoping to play Puck. That _is _as close to an ass as I'll get without being Bottom," Neil quipped.

Vanessa snorted. "Truth is, Neil, I'm not all that."

"Nor am I," Neil said. He looked at her, even as a verse of Whitman came to mind. "_Do you think I am trusty and faithful?" _

Vanessa smiled, clearly recognizing the verse. "_Do you see no further than this façade, this smooth and tolerant manner of me?" _

"_Have you no thought O dreamer that it may be all maya, illusion?" _Neil finished, with Vanessa's voice softly joining his. For a moment, they looked at each other, then at their now joined hands, afraid to break the moment.

At long last, Vanessa nodded. "You get what I mean?"

"I think I do," Neil said, slowly disentangling their fingers. Still, it was difficult to tear his gaze away from the intense blue of her eyes, or the fine line of her collarbone that was just barely covered by her blouse.

Vanessa smiled and looked down before the sound of a bell came from outside. "Seems as if it's dinner time," she said.

"Wait, don't get out of the room yet," Neil warned as he stood up and opened the door a crack. To his relief, the only people in the hallway were his few classmates who were streaming out of their rooms. "Coast is clear," he said to Vanessa.

"Right then!" Vanessa said, hurrying out after him. The two of them ran down the staircase together. On the first floor landing, Vanessa happened to trip on her dangling shoelace. She yelled out in time for Neil to catch her by the hand.

"Hey Van where have you been?" a cross voice called. Neil and Vanessa turned to see Theodosia standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"If looks could kill…" Neil thought as he watched Theodosia look at Vanessa. The younger girl's lip was curled with disdain and her arms were crossed, making her otherwise pretty face turn sour.

"Finishing work upstairs, that's what," Vanessa replied in an oddly cold tone.

"Oh sure," Theodosia said. Her displeased look suddenly warmed as she looked at Neil. "And a good evening to you, Mr. Perry," she said with a simpering smile.

Neil saw Vanessa smiling knowingly at him, almost as if they shared a secret. The sight of this somehow made his heartbeat speed up. He turned back to look at Theodosia, and nodded politely. "Good evening to you, Ms. Walter, isn't it?" he said as cordially as he could.

"Yes it is," Theodosia replied with another admiring look. "How did you know my name?"

"Simply because I told him?" Vanessa supplied.

Theodosia tossed her hair. "Well it's good that you remembered, Mr. Perry."

"I'm not particularly good with names," Neil blurted out before realizing his mistake. "Nice going there," he chided himself even as he saw a blush creep into Theodosia's cheeks.

"Well it's dinner time, I guess we'd better hurry down now," Vanessa said quickly, letting go of Neil's hand before hurrying down the last few steps.

"Van!" Neil shouted, but the girl was already walking quickly towards the dining room. Before he could go after her, Theodosia was already right beside him.

"She's an awfully good friend of yours, isn't she?" Theodosia said as she leaned against the stair rail.

"That she is," Neil replied. He willed himself to ignore the fact that Theodosia was practically batting her eyes at him. "Were you going somewhere?"

"Nowhere really," she said, dropping her voice and edging closer.

Neil took a deep breath before looking at her in the face. "I think I'd better look for Van now," he said. "Good evening again Ms. Walter," he added as an afterthought before walking past her and running towards the dining room.

Much to his surprise, he found that Vanessa had not saved the seat next to her, as she had been doing for some time now. "Neil, here," Todd said, gesturing to an empty seat next to him.

"Someone's in the doghouse," Charlie muttered, clapping Neil's back sympathetically.

"You're telling me," Neil thought before digging into his meal. Somehow he knew that there would be a lot less conversation at their table that night.

Almost as soon as dinner was finished, Vanessa got up from the table. "I won't join the study group tonight. I've got some writing to finish up," she said.

"Will you need the typewriter?" Neil asked.

"Um, no," Vanessa said curtly. "Not tonight," she added before hurrying out of the dining hall.

The other boys glanced at Neil perplexedly. "Is there something we missed?" Knox asked him.

"I don't know!" Neil replied. Briefly, he related what had happened with him, Van, and Theodosia on the stairs. "She's been acting that way since then," he finished.

"Are you really that clueless, Perry?" Charlie groaned. "She likes you."

"I know. Theodosia made it clear," Neil replied.

"No you idiot. I'm speaking of Vanessa," Charlie said. "Isn't it obvious?"

"She _likes_ me?" Neil repeated incredulously. Sure, they enjoyed each other's company, and admittedly, he was growing quite fond of her. "Maybe as a friend," he thought. However, he knew that there was nothing "friendly" in the way they had held hands earlier.

"Do we have to spell it out? Y-E-S?" Meeks said.

"You're the luckiest bastard in school, Neil," Charlie interjected. "There's only one girl in our year, and she chooses you. We're not the only ones who've noticed."

"This isn't something you're pulling like in Much Ado, I hope?"

"Why would we pull something like that, Neil?" Todd piped up. "I mean, I know that there's a lot more talking than typing going on when she's around."

Neil nearly cringed, remembering what had happened the previous day. "I think even a blind man could have seen that," he thought.

"Judging by the look on your face, the feeling is mutual," Knox said. "Good for you, Neil."

"I hope that she'll still talk to me after this," Neil said, glancing towards where Vanessa had gone. "And till then, you'll be thinking about her all night," he berated himself. He could only hope that morning would bring a better turn for them.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 (Vanessa): A Song of Joys**

The next morning, Vanessa found herself wide awake even before the sun was up. "May as well take advantage of that fact," she thought as she hurriedly washed and got dressed. She tugged her coat over her uniform before slipping outside and walking over to the wharf.

She found herself smiling at the sight of the sunrise turning the waters of the stream into rippling gold and rose. "The perfect subject for a poem," she whispered. She could practically feel the words tugging at her lips, begging just to be spoken or written down onto a piece of paper.

"_Rose and gold, the stuff of life, at my feet…" _she whispered even as she heard another set of feet headed towards the wharf. "_The very ripples of it, in time with my pulse and breath…" _

She looked back in time to see Neil standing beside her. "What are you doing here?" she asked before looking back on the water.

"I couldn't get back to sleep," he said, rubbing his eyes. Like her, he was also fully dressed, but his coat was unbuttoned.

"Nervous huh?"

"Yep."

Vanessa shrugged as she put her hands in her pockets. "So what class are you going to cut for auditions today?" she asked him bluntly.

"English," Neil said. "I know it's not a good idea. I hope the Captain will understand."

"I'm not covering for you."

"I didn't ask you to."

For some moments, an awkward silence descended on the wharf. "Come on, there's no reason that you two can't talk to each other," Vanessa thought as she willed herself to look at Neil. In the early morning light, she could see the slight strain on his face, clearly coming from a rather restless night. However his brown eyes shone with a knowing, luminous confidence, which was unlike anything she had ever seen him display in their classes.

"So you found time to rehearse last night?" she asked him at last.

"Yep. But Van, about last night…" Neil said awkwardly. "Did I do something that got you angry with me?"

Angry. The word seemed to hang thick on Vanessa's ears. She shook her head. "The word isn't angry, Neil. Annoyed maybe, a little disappointed, but not angry."

"About what?"

"It's not your fault, actually. Theodosia is a pretty girl, and she knows how to get her way, or people's attention," Vanessa said. "Even if it does mean that she blatantly ignores other people around her."

"Are you jealous?" Neil asked cautiously.

"Oh damn, he's on to me," Vanessa realized. For a moment, she cursed the fact that she found it difficult to lie to him. Maybe it was just the effect of his earnest smile, she decided. "Maybe I am. Would it change anything if I really was?" she replied.

"It could," Neil admitted.

Vanessa did not say anything to this as she moved to sit down on the edge of the wharf, her shoes barely touching the water. Neil remained standing as they watched the sun peeking through the forest beyond the stream. They stayed silent until the sound of the clock striking six rented the morning air.

"We'd better go back," Neil said after the clock stopped striking. "By the way, the expression really is "to break a leg"."

"Alright," Vanessa said as she got to her feet. She extended her hand. "Truce?"

Neil shook her hand firmly. "Fine, truce," he said before they walked back to the dormitory.

When they entered the back door, they saw Mr. Keating standing in the foyer, reading through the weather forecast. "Good morning Captain," the two students greeted.

Mr. Keating smiled by way of acknowledgment. "Enjoying an early morning stroll?" he asked.

"I guess you could say that," Vanessa replied.

"Back when I was a student, we sometimes played soccer before breakfast," Mr. Keating said. "It was one of the best ways to keep the blood pumping through our veins." He paused before glancing out the door. "Tell your classmates that for English later, I want everyone to be dressed for soccer, or in whatever clothes you play in. That goes for you too, Ms. O'Donnell. We will meet at the soccer field."

"Captain," Neil said sheepishly. "I'm sorry I won't be around in class later. I have an errand to attend to."

"That's a pity, Mr. Perry. You would have enjoyed class today," Mr. Keating said a little disappointedly. "But help Ms. O'Donnell get the message out to the boys."

"Yes Sir," Neil said.

"Don't forget your poetry assignment on Monday," Mr. Keating said as he walked down the hallway to the dining hall.

"Have you started yet?" Neil asked Vanessa.

"I was composing when you arrived," Vanessa said, punching his arm lightly. "This audition better be worth missing class."

"One can't have two heavens," Neil said as they raced upstairs to spread the word to their classmates.

Mr. Keating's request was the subject of much speculation and conjecture the rest of the day. "Do you suppose Nolan knows that we're going to have class outside?" Cameron asked the other Poets in a hushed voice as they waited for the rest of their classmates. Neil had slipped off to the audition right after Trigonometry class.

"Better that he does not. He'd have a heart attack," Vanessa said.

"That would be a big problem," Pitts said.

"Are you kidding? Sounds like the best thing that could happen!" Charlie exclaimed more pointedly.

"The ancients did have reverence for gray hairs, Mr. Dalton," Mr. Keating said as he walked up to them. He was dressed in soccer clothes as well, but he still carried his briefcase. He also had with him a whole net full of soccer balls.

"Since when did literature have anything to do with sports?" Vanessa asked.

"Both have to do with the excellence of man, expressed in different ways," Mr. Keating said as the rest of the class joined them. He now walked ahead of the entire group, kicking a soccer ball in front of him. "Now, devotees may argue that one sport or game is inherently better than another. For me, sport is actually a chance for us to have other human beings push us to excel. I want you all to come over here and take a slip of paper and line up single file."

In a moment, Mr. Keating was distributing slips of paper to the entire class. "Wonder what this is about. He said it was time to inherit the earth," Meeks said as he got in line.

"Who knows?" Vanessa quipped, falling in line right after him.

From some place on the field, Mr. Keating called to the boy at the head of the line. "You know what to do Pitts!"

Pitts looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. "Oh to struggle against great odds, to meet enemies undaunted…" he read unsurely.

"Sounds to me like you're daunted. Say it again like you're undaunted!"

"_Oh to struggle against great odds, to meet enemies undaunted!" _

"Now go on!" Mr. Keating shouted. Pitts ran forward and kicked one of the soccer balls.

The next boy in line came forward and read, "_To be the sailor of the world, bound for all ports!"_. The next person in line read, "_Oh, I live to be the ruler of life, not a slave!" _

"Whitman again!" Vanessa thought ecstatically as she saw Mr. Keating start up a record player.

"_To mount the scaffolds, to advance to the muzzles of guns with perfect nonchalance!" _another classmate read.

Meeks approached the soccer ball just as the strains of classical music began to fill the air. "Come on Meeks, listen to the music!" Mr. Keating called to the confused looking student.

"_To dance, clap hands, exult, shout, skip, leap, roll on, float on!" _Meeks read with expression before kicking the soccer ball.

"Yes! Give it some life now, Vanessa!" Mr. Keating said.

Vanessa took a deep breath before yelling with enthusiasm, "_O the joy of my spirit—it is uncaged—it darts like lightning!" _With all her might, she kicked the soccer ball such that it flew just as far as the rest of them.

She ran to the side just as Hopkins read dispassionately, "_O to have life henceforth a poem of new joys," _before barely tapping the soccer ball.

Mr. Keating frowned. "Oh boo! Come on Charlie, let it fill your soul!"

Charlie ran forward, raising his hands in the air. "_To indeed be a god!" _he shouted, delightfully outdoing the rest.

"If I could write a poem about today!" Vanessa laughed now from the sidelines. Just being outside was enough to make her feel as if her spirit had broken loose at last. All day, verses had been raging through her mind; couplets about the sun, haikus about the wind, and dare she even think it, sonnets about a certain boy who was absent at that very moment. She felt her face color again as she recalled Neil and how he had been earlier that day.

"I wonder what verse he would have wanted to read," she thought after English class, which had turned at some point into soccer practice. Fortunately for her, none of the other girls were using the showers that afternoon, thus giving her the luxury of taking as much time as she needed to wash up. By the time she was finished, most of her classmates were already freshened up and merely hanging around in the dormitory, judging from the conversation and racket from the seniors' hallway.

Just as Vanessa was about to return to her room, she heard a voice yelling over the hubbub. "Charlie! I got the part! I'm gonna play Puck! I'm gonna play Puck!"

"That could only be Neil!" she thought as she heard enthusiastic pounding on the third-floor annex door. She opened the door and saw him standing there, with a broad smile on his face.

"I got it Van!" he greeted ecstatically. "It's exactly the role I wanted!"

"Oh gosh, you're so contagious," Vanessa laughed before hugging him briefly, completely forgetting that most of their friends were watching. "Congratulations Neil!"

"Thanks for helping me practice my reading," Neil said.

"My pleasure," Vanessa replied. "Though I'm pretty sure you had the role cinched already on your own."

He smiled again at her before he hurried into his room with Todd. Vanessa followed them after a few moments. The two boys were seated at Neil's desk, in front of the typewriter.

"Neil, how are you going to do this?" Todd asked.

"They need a letter of permission from my father and Mr. Nolan," Neil replied.

Vanessa's jaw dropped as she rested her hands on Neil's shoulders. "You're not going to do what I think you're going to do…" she warned.

"What is it?" Neil asked innocently.

"Of course you're not going to write it," Todd replied.

"Oh, yes I am."

"Oh Neil, Neil, you're crazy!" Todd exclaimed.

"Yep!" Neil said, grinning at both Todd and Vanessa before he began to type.

"This is so going to end in trouble," Vanessa thought as she took her seat on one of the beds. For Neil's sake though, she knocked on wood and crossed her fingers, wishing only for the best.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 (Neil): The Sweaty Toothed-Madman**

"_Dies Irae_ alright," Neil thought as he watched Mr. McAllister handing out the corrected Latin exams on Monday towards the end of their lesson. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the A written on the corner of his paper when it was handed to him.

"B plus. Oh well," he heard Todd say from nearby. Across the classroom, Charlie rolled his eyes as he pointed to the B on his own paper. Knox seemed to be daydreaming again, though he had strategically placed his elbow to cover whatever grade he got. Pitts was grinning widely while showing his paper to an obviously satisfied Meeks. Cameron had set his own test aside, leaving his A- in full view.

"I got a B minus Does this mean I'm off remedial?" Vanessa wondered aloud.

"We will discuss that matter after class, Ms. O'Donnell," Mr. McAllister replied. "Now I will be giving a more difficult second exam. Since I will be averaging your test scores, I expect that those who did not do as well in this exam will be putting in extra effort to raise their scores."

Groans arose from all around the room while Vanessa buried her face in her hands. "Someone's got to help her out," Neil thought as the bell rang. After he gathered up his books and his play script, he stopped by Vanessa's desk.

"I'm so screwed," she said, looking up at him.

"It's just one exam," he said, crouching so that he was at eye-level to her. "You've got another chance to make up for it."

"Not that. If my parents hear of this…" Vanessa said. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Easy for you to say. You get A's in everything."

"Mr. Perry, perhaps you and Ms. O'Donnell can save that discussion for later?" Mr. McAllister said sternly.

Neil straightened up and nodded. "My apologies Sir," he said before leaving the classroom. He saw Todd also standing out in the hallway, looking quite harried.

"Hey Todd, what's the matter?" he asked his roommate. "You did fine in that test back there."

"It's not that," Todd replied. "It's English."

Neil nodded understandingly. Today was the day that their poetry assignments were due. "I'm sure everything will be fine," he said reassuringly.

"Y-you don't understand," Todd said. He bit his lip before saying, "I didn't write anything."

"What happened to that bit you were writing last week?"

"I threw it out."

It was all that Neil could do not to cringe. "You've got time to work on something," he suggested.

"I can't do it." Todd shook his head. "I just can't."

Before Neil could say anything, the classroom door opened again. Vanessa strode out and pounded her fist against the wall. "I can't believe it. It's either an A or nothing!" she said furiously.

"Van, y-you've got to calm down," Todd said. "McAllister might hear you."

"Like hell I will!"

Neil managed to get in front of her and grab her arm. "Van, nothing's impossible," he said to her. "What if you got a little extra help in Latin?" he suggested.

"Yeah, from who?" Vanessa asked acridly.

"Maybe Meeks won't mind…" Neil began. He paused, wondering how he was going to finish the sentence without coming across as awkward or patronizing. "I can even help you if you want," he said.

"You?"

"Yep."

"What about the play? You need time to learn your lines."

"I'll manage," Neil said. "It's not as if you need a daily review in Latin."

Vanessa bit her lip as if considering this option. "Fine then. I can't believe I'm this desperate." She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly in a clear attempt to calm herself down. "Sorry about the outburst, guys."

Todd nodded sympathetically. "It could be worse," he commented.

"Todd's right," Neil said. "But really Vanessa, just don't be afraid to ask for help," he reassured her.

"What did I do to get stuck with you guys?" Vanessa joked as they continued walking to the dining hall.

The rest of the afternoon leading up to English class seemed to creep by with an agonizing slowness. Neil saw that Todd could barely concentrate throughout Trigonometry. A few other classmates furtively revised their works under their desks, or when Hager wasn't looking.

"I can't wait to read," Charlie announced once the bell rang and they left the classroom. "It will be the first performance of the new Improved Daring Charles Dalton."

"You're so full of it," Cameron said with barely concealed disgust.

"Bite me," Charlie said. He clapped Neil's shoulder. "So are you going to read it dramatically, poetically…?"

"I haven't thought about it yet," Neil replied. The truth was that he had been so excited with learning his lines for the play that he had forgotten to rehearse the delivery of his own poem. "It's just a short piece. It shouldn't be so difficult," he said confidently.

"I just want to get through mine," Pitts muttered. "It doesn't even rhyme."

"Whitman doesn't always rhyme," Vanessa pointed out. "And the Captain quotes from him all the time."

"What's the point of writing a poem if it doesn't even rhyme?" Cameron scoffed.

"It's in getting the words to move, paint a picture in your head, or sing a little. I don't know, it just _is_, Cameron," Neil said as they entered the classroom. Much to their astonishment, Mr. Keating was already there, reading.

"Good afternoon everyone," he said, getting up from his seat. He waited for the entire class to settle down before pacing the front of the room. "Today, this room is your stage. You may deliver the poems in any way you like-as long as you do not do anything harmful or disruptive like setting the room on fire ala Nero."

Everyone snickered at this. Mr. Keating grinned at them before continuing. "Any volunteers?" he asked. "Before I call on Mr. Dalton, of course. We must give others the first chance to be at the front of the charge."

"I'll do it Sir," Priske said a little anxiously as he got up from his seat.

"Now that was unexpected," Neil thought as he leaned forward on his desk. Although he did his best to pay attention to Priske's work as well as the poems of those who followed after, he couldn't help but be distracted by Todd's constant fidgeting in the front row. "It's as if he's going to collapse and expire the second Mr. Keating calls on him," he realized. The problem though with that scenario was that at times it almost seemed plausible. "Public speaking is to Todd as spiders or my father are to me; absolutely terrifying," Neil thought as he gave his own poem a once-over.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Knox walk up to the platform. The blond student pulled out a paper from his pocket. "_To Chris," _he read.

"So that's her name," Neil thought, realizing that the rest of the class was listening, or tittering from curiosity.

Knox looked up momentarily with a nervous expression before continuing: "_I see a sweetness in her smile. Bright light shines from her eyes. But life is complete, contentment is mine, just knowing…" _

At this point, poor Knox turned a few shades of red. "_…just knowing that she is alive_," he mumbled before crumpling the paper. "Sorry Captain, it's stupid."

"No, no, it's not stupid. It's a good effort. It touched on one of the major themes, love. That's not only in poetry, but also in life," Mr. Keating reassured him. He looked around the still smirking class. "Mr. Hopkins, you were laughing. You're next."

Hopkins practically dragged his feet to the platform. "_The cat. Sat on. The mat," _he read, much to the laughter of the class.

"Congratulations Mr. Hopkins. Your poem is the first to score a negative on the Pritchard Scale," Mr. Keating said. "We're not laughing at you, we're laughing near you. The best poetry can come from the seemingly ordinary too, like a cat, or rain, or a flower. Just don't let your poems be ordinary."

As luck would have it, Mr. Keating's eyes soon trained on Todd. "Mr. Anderson, I see you sitting there in agony. Come on, Todd, step up. Let's put you out of your misery."

Neil shut his eyes as he heard Todd say that he didn't write a poem. "Mr. Keating's not going to let him get away with this…" he thought.

Much to his shock, when Neil opened his eyes, Mr. Keating was still standing calmly in front of Todd. "Mr. Anderson thinks that everything inside of him is worthless and embarrassing. Isn't that right, Todd? Isn't that your worst fear? Well, I think you're wrong. I think you have something inside of you that is worth a great deal," the teacher said confidently.

He went to the blackboard and began to write, "_I sound my barbaric YAWP over the roofs of the world. W.W." _He turned back to face the class. "Uncle Walt again. Now for those of you who don't know, a yawp is a loud cry or yell. Now Mr. Anderson, I would like you to give us a demonstration of a barbaric yawp. Come on, you can't yawp sitting down."

Some people began to murmur as Todd stood up reluctantly. Neil glanced at Vanessa, who was also observing this scene apprehensively. "What the hell is he going to do now?" she asked him in an undertone.

"The Captain or Todd?" Neil asked.

"Both."

"You've got to get into yawping stance," Mr. Keating said to Todd in the meantime.

"A yawp?" Todd asked, his voice almost cracking.

"Not just a yawp. A barbaric yawp," Mr. Keating replied, deepening his voice.

"Yawp." Todd said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Come on, louder."

"Yawp."

"No, that's a mouse, louder!"

"Yawp!"

"Oh good God boy, yell like a man!" Mr. Keating shouted.

"YAWP!" Todd roared, such that most of his classmates nearly jumped out of their seats.

"There it is!" Mr. Keating said. "You see, you have a barbarian in you after all." He moved to catch Todd before he could return to his seat. "Now you're not getting away that easy." He turned Todd so that he was facing a picture on the wall. "Now that's a picture of Uncle Walt up there. What does he remind you of? Don't think, just answer."

It was clear even to Neil that Todd was utterly perplexed. "A m-madman."

"What kind of madman? Don't think about it, just answer again," Mr. Keating prodded on.

"Ah-a crazy madman!" Todd said almost exasperatedly.

"No, you can do better than that. Free up your mind. Say the first thing that pops into your mind, even if it's total gibberish."

"Uh, uh, a sweaty-toothed madman!" Todd blurted out.

"Good God boy, there's a poet in you after all," Mr. Keating said with amazement. "Now close your eyes, close your eyes. Close em. Now describe what you see," he said, putting his hands over Todd's eyes for good measure.

"I can't believe the Captain is doing this!" Neil thought. Something in Todd had given way; whatever it was that would have normally left him in a gibbering, panicking mess was now gone, leaving something else in its wake.

"_I close my eyes…" _Todd quavered.

"Yes?" Mr. Keating pressed on.

"_Uh, and this image floats beside me." _

"A sweaty-toothed madman?"

"_A sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain." _

"Oh that's excellent. Now give him action. Make him do something," Mr. Keating said encouragingly.

"_H-his hands reach out and choke me." _

"That's it! Wonderful, wonderful!"

"_And all the time he's mumbling…Truth. Truth is like…a blanket that always leaves your feet cold…" _

Neil winced as the rest of the class began to laugh. "Forget them! Stay with the blanket! Tell me about it!" Mr. Keating urged Todd on.

Todd shut his eyes again. "_Y-Y-Y-You push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us_."

Mr. Keating backed down and crouched in the aisles as Todd continued more powerfully, "_From the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying, it will just cover your face as you wail and cry and scream." _

Neil let out a breath he did not even know he had been holding as silence prevailed over the classroom. It was almost surreal, but so _right_ that something so raw could come out from Todd. "If that wasn't poetry, then what is?" he thought as the rest of the class broke out into applause.

"Don't you forget this," Mr. Keating said in an undertone to Todd before the latter returned to his seat and the bell rang for the day.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 (Vanessa) Darest Thou Now O Soul**

"Rumor has it you're thinking about going to college, Vanessa."

The raven haired girl smiled at Annie's statement. "Well if I'm going to a school like _this_, I may as well make something of it, right?" she replied as she yanked off a particularly uncomfortable high-heeled shoe, trading it for her arguably more comfortable loafers. The 'special Physical Education class' for the girls had focused on ballroom dance that day, leading to a number of mishaps involving broken shoe straps and heels. Eventually this has culminated in the class letting out earlier than usual, ensuing in sighs of relief for all the girls present.

Annie grimaced as she inspected the blisters on her toes. "Where would you go? Someplace like Wellesley, I bet? Or even Smith College, Yale, Harvard, someplace in the Ivy League?"

"I don't know yet," Vanessa replied. The truth was that she hadn't been thinking very much about her options after leaving Welton, not for lack of interest, but rather for lack of time to contemplate the matter. "I might head up to New York."

"And do what?"

"Study writing."

"What for?" Theodosia mocked as she walked by. She tossed down her own broken down pair of shoes. "You're going to spend all that money on a degree, which you won't use when you have a ring on your finger—"

"Who says it has to be that way?" Vanessa retorted. "Maybe that's the way some of our parents were, but that doesn't mean I have to have it, or that I want it."

Annie shrugged. "She's got a point. Not all men want a wife who's too much into her books."

"Not all being the operative word," Vanessa said firmly. For a moment, the images of her fellow Dead Poets came to mind, but she held her tongue. "One of these days, you'll see, I'll be a writer and something great-and my being married will just be a side option."

"It's that French book you're reading," Theodosia said scornfully. "Does Mr. Nolan know you have it?"

"What is it to him?" Vanessa said, gathering up her things and quitting the room. Despite her aching feet, she was determined to go outside and enjoy what was left of the day. The sunlight was falling just right, turning the soccer field a warm golden. This alone was enough to tempt her towards the sidelines of the game that the rest of Mr. Keating's class was playing.

She lost no time in dumping her school satchel and her shoes on the grass, and sitting down on a rock. "Go Todd!" she shouted to her friend, who at that moment was trying to get the ball past Pitts' long legs.

"Hey Van! Spaz wants to rest-you want to jump in?" Charlie yelled to her from where he stood at one goal.

"Like this?" Vanessa asked, gesturing to her skirt and loafers.

"Is that going to stop you?"

Vanessa grinned and shook her head. Before anyone could protest, she gave Spaz a knowing look and took his place in the team. Todd raised his eyebrows when he saw her beside him, but he didn't say anything to it.

Mr. Keating's expression was one of surprise. "A little caution there, Miss O'Donnell," he said a little warily.

"Aye, aye Captain," Vanessa said, saluting before the ball came her way. She managed to kick it towards Neil, who then assisted Meeks in getting it towards the goal. Apparently this had been a decisive point in the game, since the rest of the team proceeded to tackle Meeks to the ground, whooping and yelling in celebration.

"This is so unfair, we can't get near if she's around!" Cameron yelled, pointing to Vanessa.

"What, you got a problem with that now?" Vanessa retorted before Mr. Keating tossed the ball back towards the students in order to resume the game. The sheer feeling of movement at its most unrestrained was like a tonic in Vanessa's veins; never mind the lack of grace and finesse. When the game ended at sundown, she was far from exhausted, and managed to keep up with the group as they carried off Mr. Keating on their shoulders, and back towards the dormitories.

However when they got there, Hager was already calling the students to dinner. "Miss O'Donnell!" he barked reprovingly on catching sight of her with the young men.

"Good evening Sir," Vanessa said as primly as she could. "What seems to be the problem?

Hager eyed her disapprovingly. "Did you report to your Physical Education class earlier this afternoon?"

"She did," Mr. Keating replied, managing to get his feet back on the ground. "She volunteered to substitute for Mr. Jefferson here," he added, gesturing to the still out-of-breath Spaz.

Hager nodded slowly, noticing that Spaz had his inhaler out. "When any of these other young gentlemen would have been up to the task," he muttered as he let the students pass.

Neil clapped Vanessa on the back. "Too bad you missed a good part of the game," he said casually.

"I couldn't get away from dance class," Vanessa replied as she reached up to wipe some mud off Neil's shoulder.

"Dance class? What sort?"

"Ballroom. I never liked the foxtrot."

Neil chuckled as they went up the stairs. "You're going to the meeting later, right?" he asked in an undertone.

"Wouldn't miss it," she said, dropping her voice. She realized though at that moment that other students were eyeing them. "Say Neil, what are you doing for college?" she asked more loudly.

Neil's dark eyes turned a little wry. "I haven't thought about it yet. Are we supposed to fill out applications already?"

"Not immediately," she said, leaning against the stair rail. "But say you could go anywhere, just go on a lark…where would you go?"

Neil raised an eyebrow. "Why are you asking?"

Vanessa shrugged. "I'm curious."

It took a moment before Neil took a deep breath and said, "New York. I'd take up drama, or something creative."

"But you won't because…."

He turned away from her. "My father insists that I'm going to Harvard to be a doctor."

Vanessa swallowed hard on seeing Neil's bowed head and slightly slouched shoulders as he spoke. Seeing him was almost like looking in a mirror, but one that only showed the grayness and bleakness of their world. "Haven't you tried telling him otherwise?" she asked.

"That's a laugh. Like you'd do the same to your stepfather," he retorted.

"_If he'd even let me speak up," _Vanessa wanted to say, but she swallowed hard. Just the sight of Neil was enough to bring forth the crazy idea she'd been fomenting with regard to her own options.

"You could….you could get away once you're eighteen. Get a scholarship to some place, I know you've got the grades for it. It's not going to be easy, but if it gets you closer to what you want, it's worth it" she whispered. It was a glimmer of a hope, but she knew it was more real for Neil than it could ever be for her.

He looked at her quizzically. "What would my father say?"

"Does he have to have a part in it?" she blurted out. She clapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry Neil. That must sound so…rude."

"It doesn't." He touched her shoulder. "I'll see you later in the meeting," he said before continuing on upstairs to his room.

Van ran her hands through her hair, feeling embarrassment threatening to overwhelm her. "I shouldn't have said that," she whispered before hurrying to her own room to shower and get changed into fresh clothes. She knew she had no right to tell Neil what to do about his situation, especially when she was so powerless over her own.

"_But at least Neil and I are not alone," _she thought, unsure what to make of this sort of sad kinship. She made sure not to mention the topic again during dinner, more so later en route to the cave.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 (Neil) What Think You I Take My Pen in Hand?**

Despite Vanessa's silence on the topic of college, Neil could not bring himself to let go of the issue. "Where would you go?" he asked Todd one morning as they readied to go to their classes.

Todd nearly dropped the towel he'd been using on his hair. "I-I don't know. Haven't really thought about it."

"You too?" Neil said, clapping Todd on the shoulder. "Do you have any idea what you want to do?"

Todd shrugged uneasily. "I don't think about this sort of thing every day, Neil. I'd like to get through some other problems first before worrying about that."

"Like what problems?" Neil pressed on. "Welton….I mean, this is a passing thing, it sometimes feels as if we're doing time here when we're not in English. There has to be something out there, something more."

A slight smile tugged at Todd's lips. "Maybe I'll find it soon enough." He shrugged his shoulders again. "It's a long time from now, Neil. I'm more worried about trigonometry today."

"But what would you do?" Neil pressed on.

"Maybe write. Maybe music," Todd said nonchalantly. "Nothing with Math or Latin, that's for sure."

Neil nodded as he gathered up his books and followed his roommate downstairs. He tried not to think of the forms he had sent for from various universities, as well as the choices he was planning to write down. "_Since when did one pen stroke decide a life?" _he wondered bemusedly as he entered the dining room.

Charlie elbowed him as he sat down. "No getting out of it, Neil. You're reading your poem today," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Good thing I've had time to practice," Neil replied. Somehow, whether by some trick of fate or the dealings of an unknown deity, Neil had been among those who had yet to be called by Mr. Keating to read his poetry assignment. Neil wasn't sure whether to be relieved or pressured by this unintentional reprieve.

He noticed Vanessa quietly reading while sipping her hot chocolate. "That's for Latin, right?"

She looked up quickly at him. "No, it's English. My own composition."

"Can we have a look?" Knox asked.

Vanessa shook her head. "You boys will just have to be surprised. And wipe that sour look off your face, Cameron, it's nothing sappy."

"What, what did I do?" Cameron asked.

"You look like my grandmother when she is constipated," Charlie said.

"Or like someone sick," Pitts butted in.

Neil smiled on listening to the banter of his friends. It was a welcome change from the maelstrom that was his mind at present. Before he knew it, breakfast was over and he had to be at his desk in Mr. Keating's classroom.

Mr. Keating began the class with a short discussion on Percy Bryce Shelley and Romanticism, before giving the rest of the period over to the reading of the students' poems. After Spaz's sonorous reading of an original sonnet, Mr. Keating called on Neil.

Neil walked up to the front of the room and reached for the paper he kept tucked in his pocket. He unfolded it quickly, expecting to find the poem he'd written about the feeling of being on stage and stepping into a part. However to his horror, he found a paper in his own hand, but with a completely different configuration of verses.

"Captain, I brought the wrong poem," Neil said, feeling the sweat starting to build on his forehead.

"It doesn't matter, Mr. Perry. A poem is a poem," Mr. Keating said.

Neil knew even at that moment he was turning rather red. Why had he brought the particular paper he'd been scrawling on while waiting for Vanessa to come out of a Latin tutorial? The verses, in his mind, were particularly atrocious. He cleared his throat to begin reading: _"I search for answers, seek that which is true. Only to be confronted by an enigma, with a gaze in blue." _

A murmuring started in the room at these words. It was all that Neil could do to keep his voice steady as he continued, "_She moves with a tread exacting, demanding. Yet speaking with tones questing, yearning. She is harsh, I will admit. But if she would permit…to learn with her is bliss. Apart from her, life runs amiss. _

He took another deep breath, remembering now that the poem was unfinished. Despite his trepidation, he couldn't leave it hanging. "_It is her mind that is truly fair. Leaves me wondering about the mysteries in her dark hair. To see, to believe to know her is life. And I would choose her, no matter the strife." _

He pocketed the paper amid the hoots and catcalls of his classmates. He did not dare to meet Vanessa's eyes as he went back to his seat.

"A valiant work, Mr. Perry," Mr. Keating said. He sat on top of his desk. "The power of language for you, gentlemen and lady. Even the simplest words can effect a range of emotions-passion, abhorrence, love, hatred…the entire gamut of human emotions. You need not speak in Shakespearean English to make your point-" he began before the bell rang, cutting him off. "We will continue the discussion next meeting. Till then, I want you to peruse that lovely snippet of Victor Hugo's 'Notre Dame de Paris.' No reading aloud this time, I only want you to ponder on it. Thank you for today, gentlemen, Miss O'Donnell."

At that moment, Neil turned to look at Vanessa, only to see her quit the room before he or the other Dead Poets could say or do anything. "I really had another poem in mind, Captain," Neil said weakly to Mr. Keating as soon as the other students were gone.

"I'm sure," Mr. Keating said sympathetically. He got up from where he was sitting and walked towards Neil's desk. "Does she know?"

"About the poem, no."

"No, Neil, about what you meant in the poem."

Neil swallowed hard. "I don't know what Vanessa would say. It would make things awkward-more than they already will be."

"Well if you must take a risk in poetry, or in life for that matter, love is an excellent reason for it," Mr. Keating replied. He paused, as if trying to consider his next words to Neil. "Just be honest, whatever you do," he said at last.

"_Yes, and I'll be risking my neck," _Neil thought as he got his books. "Thank you, Captain," he said before heading towards his next class, Trigonometry. To his discomfiture, he saw that Vanessa was no longer sitting at the desk next to his, and had chosen instead to move to a seat next to Todd's.

He glanced at Charlie, who was clearly trying not to laugh. Knox, Meeks, and Pitts only had looks of commiseration for him. "_What to do when eloquence runs dry?" _he wondered before the class began.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 (Vanessa) From Pent Up Aching Rivers**

"Are you even planning to go outside today, sis?"

Vanessa spared only a momentary glance upwards from the article she was revising. "I have to finish this, John," she said to her brother. For some reason John had gotten it in his head to work on his soccer skills, and he wanted his sister to help him out. "_Which I would gladly do if not for the school paper deadlines," _she groused silently. She'd been in the newsroom almost from the moment classes had let out for the day.

The freshman rolled his eyes as he leaned against the desk. "You sure? I saw some of your classmates by the lake again. Well, everyone except Neil Perry, where on earth is he?"

Vanessa cursed as the typewriter reached the end of the paper. "Maybe later. Sorry," she murmured distractedly. She shook her head, willing herself not to think about Neil. Last she'd heard, he'd been headed for a rehearsal. "_I don't need to be distracted, not now," _she thought with gritted teeth, barely noticing when her brother left the newsroom,

She brought her attention back to the paper, trying to grasp again at the threads of the article she'd been working on. It was a piece on the play "A Raisin in the Sun", which she'd seen during its tour. Admittedly the article was a little late in timing, but she'd been out of things to write-at least things which might get past the censors at Welton. "_Sure it's a play about blacks, but I won't get in trouble if I make the piece a literary critique," _she told herself repeatedly.

After reaching the end of another page, she set the article aside in the pile for that week's submissions. She got up from her seat, using one hand to massage the crick in her neck. "_Will probably skip on study group tonight," _she decided, looking out the window on the now darkened campus. There was no way she would be able to deal with the teasing that Charlie, and perhaps some of the other Dead Poets would have ready for her and Neil.

However as she left the newsroom and headed for the stairway leading to the girls' annex, she caught sight of a lanky figure crossing the front hall. "Neil!" she blurted out almost without thinking.

He turned quickly to look at her. "Hi Van," he greeted. His cheeks were rosy and his hair was slightly tousled, as if he'd just run a long way.

"How was rehearsal?" she asked, keeping her tone guarded. If anyone saw them talking, it would be hell to pay.

"Good," he replied. He caught her gaze at that moment, making her feel rather tingly all over. "Where did you go after class?"

"Writing an article. I had a deadline to meet." She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "About that poem in Mr. Keating's class, it's fine. Don't worry about it. I just had to get over hearing it."

Neil turned even redder. "I'm sorry. I really had another poem in mind to read, but I brought the wrong one today. I didn't mean for it to happen."

"I know." She knew that Neil had to have guessed about how she felt about him, especially after that incident with Theodosia. "_And if that didn't clue him in, the guys teasing him would have," _she thought as she dared to look him in the eye again. "So I guess I'll see you at dinner?"

He nodded. "You aren't mad at me?"

"Not now," she said as she moved her black hair out of her face. She managed a smile on seeing Neil's incredulous expression. "Of course I can't be mad at someone who I was going to ask for help from, when it comes to Latin."

"You'll get it. I'll make sure you ace Mr. McAllister's next test," Neil said, sounding more relieved. "Let's work on it tomorrow, after our Dead Poets meeting."

"Thank you," Vanessa said before hurrying upstairs. Once in the safety of her room, she rested her head against her door, still in disbelief as to what had transpired.

The next day was a Saturday. As soon as she got out of her weekly etiquette class, Vanessa hurried back to her room to get a head start on her Latin homework. It was afternoon and her head was buzzing by the time she finished revising her essay, hopefully till it would reach Mr. McAllister's standards.

"Now to the cave," she decided. The Dead Poets had agreed to meet that afternoon, in order to give some time for a study group that evening. When Vanessa arrived at the cave, she saw she was alone. Yet she didn't mind very much; she needed the time to collect her thoughts, or to at least mentally go over the poem she intended to read.

After a few minutes, she heard the telltale sound of several footsteps approaching the cave. Meeks peered in first. "Van? What are you doing here?" he greeted.

"Thinking," she replied. She frowned on seeing the pipes and the saxophone that the boys had with them. "Is that necessary?"

"Another way of sampling the marrow of life," Charlie replied as everyone took their seats. He expertly filled each pipe and passed them around. "Come on, this is going to be fun."

"So old-fashioned," Vanessa groused, declining the pipe Todd offered her.

Charlie laughed. "Attaboy, Pitts, inhale deeply," he said to their friend who had managed to light up his pipe.

The smell of tobacco was cloying, making Vanessa cough. "_Can't believe even Todd is smoking this!" _she thought. She elbowed Knox, who seemed to be drifting off. "In Xanadu again?" she kidded him.

"No," Knox replied.

"He's been like that all day," Cameron muttered.

"He's moping about Chris again. Here's a picture of Chris for you," Pitts kidded, holding up one of Charlie's centerfolds.

"That's demeaning!" Vanessa protested.

Knox's eyes narrowed at Pitts. "That's not funny."

"Come on, cool it. Smoke your pipes, gentlemen," Charlie chided as someone whistled outside the cave.

Meeks looked up. "Neil!" he called.

Neil ducked into the cave. "Friend, scholar, Welton men-and lady," he greeted. He had with him a rather odd looking lamp carved in the shape of a man.

"What's that?" Meeks asked.

"Duh, it's a lamp, Meeks!" Pitts said.

"No. This is the god of the cave," Neil said, pulling the torn shade off the lamp, and installing the lampstand at one end of the cave.

Vanessa examined the lampstand curiously. It was beat-up, but charming in a certain rough way. "Where did you find this?"

"In a thrift store," Neil replied, moving to sit beside her. He settled an arm around Vanessa's shoulder. "You smoking a pipe too?"

"No, it's positively vile," Vanessa said. She rolled her eyes. "If you're gonna sit next to me, don't you start."

"Hey, what do you say we start this meeting?" Charlie said. He got up and reached for his saxophone. "Presenting: Poetruistic, by Charles Dalton."

Vanessa grimaced at the cacophony of notes that Charlie played. She heard Meeks groan. "Oh no" before Charlie blew a blast in his direction.

"Laughing, crying, tumbling, mumbling. Gotta do more, gotta be more!" Charlie said in an intense voice before letting out more notes. "Chaos screaming, chaos dreaming. Gotta do more, gotta be more!" He then proceeded to play a short but moving melody on his saxophone before ending to the applause to the group.

"Where did you learn to play that?" Meeks asked.

"My parents made me take the clarinet for _years_," Charlie replied.

"I loved the clarinet!" Cameron piped up.

"I hated it! The saxophone, well the saxophone is more sonorous."

"Big words, Charlie," Vanessa commented.

At that moment Knox threw down his pipe. "I can't take it anymore! If I don't have Chris, I'm gonna kill myself!"

"Knoxious, you have to calm down!" Charlie said.

"You can't be serious," Vanessa chimed in.

"That's just the problem you two. I've been calm all my life," Knox said. "And I'm going to do something about that," he said, getting to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Neil asked.

Knox's face broke out into a grin. "I'm going to call her," he said with a chuckle as he hurried out of the cave.

"Did I just hear him right?" Neil whispered to Vanessa as they and the other poets ran after Knox.

"You did, you did," Vanessa replied, grabbing on to his arm.

"Isn't that risky?" Todd asked, motioning for them to catch up.

"It's worth it," Neil said gamely as they followed the group into the dormitory. The other poets crowded around the phone as Knox lifted the receiver of the payphone in the front hallway.

Knox dialed a few times, each attempt ending with him slamming down the phone. "It's hopeless. She's gonna hate me. The Danburrys will hate me. My parents will kill me." He took a deep breath before looking at the phone. "Fine. Carpe Diem. Even if it kills me."

It was not long till someone picked up on the other end of the line. "Hello, Chris?" Knox replied. The eager smile on his face told the other Poets that he was talking to his intended. "Hi, this is Knox Overstreet."

Vanessa wriggled under Neil's arm to get closer as Knox continued talking to Chris, occasionally whispering to his friends what was going on. "He's smitten. Just look at him," she whispered.

Neil motioned for her to be quiet. "This is too good," he said.

Meanwhile Knox's phone call was coming to a close. "Friday night at the Danburrys. Okay. Thank you. I'll see you. Bye," he finished.

He put the receiver back in its cradle and leaned against the wall. "Yawp!" he crowed triumphantly. "Can you believe it? She was going to call me. She invited me to a party with her."

"At Chet Danburry's house," Charlie pointed out.

"So?"

"So, you don't really think she means you're going with her?"

Knox rolled his eyes. "Well of course not, Charlie. That's not the point. That's not the point at all."

"Then what is the point?" Charlie asked.

Knox's face broke out into a grin. "The point is that….she was thinking about me. I've only met her once, and already she's thinking about me." He stood up straighter. "It's going to happen guys, I can feel it. She is going to be mine," he finished, wrapping his scarf around his neck in a debonair fashion.

Everybody laughed as Knox went upstairs. "Carpe! Carpe!" Neil called after him. He ran a hand through his hair. "I guess so much for our meeting today. He's up on Mount Olympus."

"Meeks and I will work on the radio. The range is a bit short," Pitts said.

"I need to work on Chemistry," Todd chimed in.

"I've got a college applications essay to finish up, so I'll see you at dinner," Vanessa replied.

Charlie's jaw dropped. "You're seriously thinking you're going?"

"Why not?" Vanessa said, raising an eyebrow.

Cameron rolled his eyes. "Is it necessary in your case? After a few years, you won't need the degree when you're married."

"I'd like to do something more than just be Mrs So-and-So," Vanessa said.

"You're wasting your time," Cameron scoffed.

"Cameron, stop it," Neil said reprovingly.

"She has to see reality, Neil, and stop being silly."

Vanessa shut her eyes at these sharp words, hearing her step-father's voice echoing again in lieu of Cameron's. "I see it all the time, but that doesn't mean I have to _accept_ it," she retorted before heading to the stairway.

"Damn it, Cameron," Neil hissed before following Vanessa out.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17 (Neil) On Divergence**

Even from the lower parts of the stairwell, Neil could hear Vanessa's footsteps in the hall. "Van, wait!" he called, hurrying to catch up with her in the corridor. But before he knew it, she had slammed the door of her room right in his face.

Nevertheless he knocked relentlessly. "Van, please open up." He gritted his teeth as he tried to think of something to say. At that moment, a burst of inspiration hit him as he recalled yet another discussion he and his friends had in the cave about Whitman's poems. He pulled a scrap of paper out from his pocket and a pencil, and then scrawled these verses from memory:

"_Let us twain walk aside from the rest;_

_Now we are together privately, do you discard ceremony,_

_Come! Vouchsafe to me what has yet been vouchsafed to none—_

_Tell me the whole story_

_Tell me what you would not tell your brother, wife, husband or physician." _

He slipped the paper under the door and waited with bated breath. After a little while, the door flew open. "Shouldn't you be elsewhere, Neil?" Vanessa asked brusquely as she moved her hair out of her face.

"I wanted to check up on you," Neil replied. He touched her shoulder. "Just don't mind what Cameron said."

She let out a shaky sigh. "What century does he think he's in anyway?"

"He's just sort of stuck in his ways, let's just leave it at that," Neil said, though he knew this was just a diplomatic way of describing the situation. "Will you be alright?"

Vanessa nodded. "You don't have to worry about me, Neil. I'll be fine. I just have to get my thoughts together." She reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Aren't you going to work on your own applications soon?"

"I'm just getting the papers together for both universities," Neil said. "Harvard and New York University."

Vanessa's grin grew wider. "I take you're still going for medicine in the former, but for the arts program in the latter?"

"Yeah. You already know what I'd rather be doing," Neil replied, He noticed that Vanessa was still not smiling. "You'll get far, I know it. You of all people, you're so determined and passionate," he said more eagerly.

Vanessa's pallid cheeks turned a little pink at these words. "Do you really think so?" she said, looking him in the eye. "When it comes to being passionate though, you're pretty much the epitome of it."

Neil felt his face grow warm as well at Vanessa's compliment. "I really do think so. You probably have guessed it by now, I mean, that poem I read in class must have made it obvious. I really like you, Vanessa."

For a moment he did not dare to look her in the face, already expecting her to walk out like she did after class, or even to lash out at him. To his surprise though, she held his hand more tightly, prompting him to meet her gaze. "The feeling is mutual," she whispered, standing on tiptoe to reach his ear.

Neil did not hide his smile, even if at that moment he was not sure if he should kiss her, give her a hug, or simply be content with holding her hand. He settled for bringing her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles lightly, and eliciting a giggle from her. "So will we work on your Latin later, after dinner?"

"Yes, please. And thank you," Vanessa said, smiling brightly at him. "Now you'd better go before Miss Crawford or the girls find you here."

"Alright. See you tonight then," Neil said before Vanessa returned to her room. He quickly hurried back to his own quarters, not caring if anyone would point out the grin that he was sure was wearing. "_Time to thank whatever love gods there are," _he thought happily as he found his script and went off to practice his lines in preparation for his next rehearsal.

Although Neil and Vanessa had an unspoken accord about being discreet around the rest of the Dead Poets Society, it did not take long before the group, as well as their other classmates, began to comment and joke about the ongoing 'romance'.

"Face it Neil, this was inevitable. She had your attention beginning the first day of school," Todd said to Neil the following Monday as they and their friends headed for English class.

"She had _everyone's_ attention from the first day of school," Charlie pointed out with a mischievous smirk.

Vanessa rolled her eyes as she adjusted the strap of her satchel of books. "You boys don't see enough of girls."

"Or of certain ones," Pitts said, giving a Knox a friendly bop upside the head. "Hey the classroom door is still closed."

"But the Captain has left a note," Neil said, noticing a piece of paper taped to the door. He nodded to some other classmates who were just walking up. "He said that he'll be waiting for us in the courtyard."

"What crazy thing is he going to do now?" Cameron groused.

"More like interesting," Neil replied. He reached for Vanessa's bag. "Here, let me carry that. It's a long way downstairs."

"Thanks for the offer, but I can manage it," Vanessa said as they walked with the rest of the group.

"_So much for being chivalrous," _Neil mused. The truth was that he was unsure as to how to act around a girl he had such feelings for; he had never courted a girl, asked one on a date, or had a girlfriend. "_It does not help that Vanessa is a little on the unconventional side," _he thought as he and his classmates stepped out into the courtyard.

Mr. Keating was waiting in the middle of the courtyard. "Good morning everyone. How was your weekend?"

A few mumbles and slight complaints greeted this query. Mr. Keating nodded before surveying the group. "Mr. Pitts, Mr. Cameron, Mr. Overstreet, please come forward."

The three students did so, rather confusedly. "Now just walk around the courtyard. No grades at stake here, gentlemen. Just take a stroll," Mr. Keating said.

Neil watched curiously, even as his friends' strides soon began to resemble a march. "There it is," Mr. Keating said as some other students began to clap out a beat. "I don't know what I've been told…" he began.

"I don't know what I've been told," the class repeated.

"Doing poetry is old."

"Doing poetry is old."

Mr. Keating was now walking alongside the trio. "Left, left, left right, left, left-halt!" He nodded as the students stopped marching. "Thank you gentlemen. If you noticed, everyone started off with their own stride, their own pace…"

Even Neil couldn't resist snickering as Mr. Keating briefly described how Pitts, Cameron, and Knox had walked. "Now I did not bring them up here to ridicule them. I brought them up here to illustrate the point of conformity: the difficulty in maintaining your own beliefs in the face of others. Now, those of you - I see the look in your eyes like, "I would've walked differently." Well, ask yourselves why you were clapping."

"_Oh he hit the nail on the head," _Neil couldn't help thinking, even as he saw Todd, Vanessa and Meeks look agog at Mr. Keating's words, while Charlie remained quietly smug. "_I may as well do something to fix that….starting with those applications in my room," _he resolved quietly.

"Now I want you to make up your own walk right now. Your own way of striding, pacing. Any direction. Anything you want, whether it's proud, whether it's silly, anything. The courtyard is yours," Mr. Keating said.

"_How would Robin Goodfellow walk?" _Neil wondered for a moment. He started off with a slow walk and then picked up to a brisk stride that had his feet barely touching the ground. He noticed Todd trying out clomping steps near the wall, while Meeks was making a valiant attempt to walk backwards. Vanessa was walking practically on tiptoe, laughing when she nearly tripped on her own feet.

"Mr. Dalton! You will be joining us?" Mr. Keating called to Charlie, who was still leaning against a wall.

"I'm exercising my right not to walk," Charlie said.

"Thank you Mr. Dalton. You've just illustrated my point. Swim against the stream," Mr. Keating said.

"_Couldn't have expected less," _Neil thought with amusement. He glanced up at the nearest building, and saw the curtains swishing in a window, as if someone had been standing there. "_Curioser and curioser…" _he thought before shaking his head to clear away his musings.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 (Vanessa) A Day Against Bounds**

"It's a finely written article, Vanessa. One of your best so far. I am just worried about its…reception."

"It's a drama review, Miss Crawford. What can be wrong with that?"

The teacher smiled sympathetically at the girl. "I understand that you may feel some….sympathy for the situations portrayed in "_A Raisin in the Sun". _I feel though that your passionate review of this play may not be quite what some of the student body is prepared to deal with."

It was all that Vanessa could do to keep her face straight despite the snickers coming from the boys and girls in Welton's newsroom. "I take that if I had written about another work, I wouldn't be asked to edit my article so heavily," she said tersely.

"That would depend on the work," Miss Crawford said, rubbing her temples.

Vanessa nodded. "What about Simone de Beauvoir's "_The Fairer Sex_?"

Miss Crawford bit her lip. The student sighed. "May I write about something more classic like Voltaire's '_Candide_'?"

"It might be shocking coming from a young lady," the teacher said uncomfortably.

Vanessa tapped her fingers on the table impatiently. What works could she write about without drawing too much censure? "What about Steinbeck and "_Grapes of Wrath_?"

"It might be disturbing for the younger students. Try something less dangerous and more permissible."

"Then what is _permissible_ then?" Vanessa asked exasperatedly. For a moment she thought of bringing up another favorite, _"Catcher in the Rye_", but she already knew what the reception would be.

"You could write a review about the play your friend Mr. Perry is in," Miss Crawford suggested. "You need not be overly serious about literature reviews; people here have little time to read outside of their assignments."

"_Hence damning the point of these articles," _Vanessa fumed silently as Miss Crawford went to speak to another student. The girl swiftly retrieved her article from the pile and sat down to alter a few words and make the necessarily grammatical corrections. "_But nothing against its spirit," _she decided before looking around for a typewriter to make a fresh copy of the work. Seeing that the entire newsroom was occupied, she deftly excused herself and headed to the dormitory.

It was a Wednesday, which meant that Neil would probably be at rehearsal while Todd would be off at soccer practice. Yet even so, Vanessa had already figured out a way to get into the boys' room to be able to use the typewriter. "_Thanks heavens for skeleton keys," _she thought mischievously as she crept into the room. She threw the window open to help banish the odor of sweaty socks from the room before sitting down to work.

As Vanessa worked, she decided that there was something oddly comforting about the steady rhythm of the typewriter keys. Sure it was not as potent as the feel of writing longhand, but at least in her case it made her output much easier to read. She couldn't help but chuckle on remembering that Neil was just as impossible as her when it came to penmanship, and that perhaps of all of the members of the Dead Poets Society, only _Todd_ had handwriting that could even be considered pleasant to look at.

At length, someone knocked on the door. "Neil, Todd?" Mr. Keating called.

"_What's the Captain doing here?" _Vanessa wondered, unsure for a moment if she should run, ignore her teacher, or answer the door. At length, she got up, pushed back her chair as quietly as possible and opened the door a crack.

Mr. Keating's eyes widened with astonishment. "Vanessa, what are you doing in there?" he asked.

"Borrowing Neil's typewriter," Vanessa replied blithely. "The entire newsroom is full," she added, still hoping against all hope that her teacher wouldn't tell the authorities.

Mr. Keating nodded and passed two envelopes to her. "Give this to Todd when you see him," he instructed.

Vanessa glanced at the envelopes, seeing that they were addressed to none other than Yale University. "Recommendation letters?"

"For his university applications."

"_I knew I was forgetting something," _she realized. She bit her lip. "Mr. Keating, I know it's a little late, but if it's possible…"

"You want me to write a recommendation for you?" Mr. Keating finished. "I'd be more than happy to, but I will have to give it to you at the end of the week-I still have to check your classmates' essays. What are you aiming to study?"

"Journalism. I'm going to New York, hopefully with Neil," Vanessa said proudly.

Mr. Keating raised an eyebrow. "New York? I heard him say once that he was headed for Harvard."

"That's what his father wants him to do. But Neil told me he was thinking of taking up drama or English," Vanessa said confusedly.

"Any particular place in mind?"

"New York University. But of course maybe he's asking someone else to give him his recommendation for there."

"Perhaps," Mr. Keating said pensively. "Has he talked to his father yet about his other choice?"

"No. I don't think that Mr. Perry the elder would even _allow_ that discussion," Vanessa said. She paused to put the letters on the desk. "Captain, is it wrong to introduce 'dangerous' literature here in schools?"

Mr. Keating chuckled at the question. "Define 'dangerous' in literature?"

Vanessa paused to think. "Provocative, upsetting, not quite in the mores of people everyday…"

"You'd be surprised that a lot of what is taught nowadays was considered as 'dangerous' in its heyday," Mr. Keating said. "Usually ideas, especially if they are shocking or acknowledge an unpleasant part of reality, aren't so easily stomached by people. It's like bitter medicine or castor oil."

"Isn't that the way history tends to go?" Vanessa said. She took a deep breath, wondering if she should tell her teacher about the discussion she had with Miss Crawford. "_Might cause complications between the faculty if I bring it up," _she decided. Then that would be real hell to pay.

Mr. Keating eyed the article that Vanessa was typing. "_A Raisin in the Sun. _I like that play," he said.

"Really?"

"It is quite insightful. And at the very least it provokes discussion," Mr. Keating said. "Well I shall not keep you from your work any longer."

"Thank you Captain," Vanessa said before shutting the door. She finished the last few paragraphs of her article, gave it a once-over, then took it back downstairs to the newsroom to put it in the pile for submission.

Just as she was about to leave, she saw Charlie walking in. "Hey."

"Late submission?" he asked her teasingly.

"No, just simple revisions."

"Any chance you could help me and Pittsie out later with Chemistry?"

Vanessa paused. "Yeah, since we don't have Latin tomorrow. I'll get Neil to help out too," she said.

Charlie laughed before adjusting his coat in a cavalier manner. "Alright, alright. I'll see you lovebirds later."

She smirked before heading outside. It was dark now, but Vanessa couldn't care less, being intoxicated with her own defiance. As she wandered the grounds, she heard something crash and clatter to the ground. She rushed over to the spot on the walkway, only to find herself looking at what had once been a complete desk set.

"What on earth…." she asked aloud. She looked up to the bridge near the walkway and caught sight of two figures standing there. One of them waved to her. Vanessa rolled her eyes and cupped her hands to her mouth to yell, "Neil, Todd, what is this all about?"

"Testing the world's first unmanned flying desk set," Neil replied.

"A _what_ desk set?"

"My former birthday present," Todd said mirthfully.

"Oh you boys," Vanessa laughed before running up to the walkway where her friends were seated. She patted Todd on his back. "Happy birthday."

Todd nodded. "Thanks."

"The others don't know?" Vanessa asked.

"Never told them."

Vanessa sighed. "You shouldn't be afraid to tell us things, Todd," she said, sitting next to the boys on the walkway. She nestled close to Neil, who slipped an arm around her waist. "How was rehearsal?"

"Amazing. We're more than halfway through with polishing the scenes in Act 3," Neil replied. He idly played with the ends of Vanessa's hair. "On a night like this, Shakespeare isn't what comes to mind."

"_The Night follows close with millions of suns, and sleep and restoring darkness," _Vanessa whispered. For a long time after this, none of the three students dared to say anything, as if they were afraid to ruin the blissful silence that had suddenly descended upon them.

Eventually the sound of the bell ringing for dinner pierced the quiet. "Where did you get that verse?" Todd asked her.

"Uncle Walt again," Vanessa replied. "_No better poet to quote on a night of daring like this." _


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 (Neil) A Woman Waits for Me**

That Friday evening had most of the members of the Dead Poets Society waiting impatiently for Hager's eagle-eyed patrol of the hallway to end. "Where on earth is Charlie?" Meeks asked Neil as they waited in the hallway.

"I don't know. He said he had to do something in town," Neil said, looking up from the Chemistry notes he was reviewing. He motioned for Meeks to follow him in his room as Hager turned around at the end of the hall.

Todd, who was reading at his desk, nearly jumped at the sound of his friends entering. "Are we going yet?" he asked in a voice that was just above a whisper.

Neil pressed his ear to the door to listen for Hager's footsteps in the hall. At last he heard the satisfying click of a light switch, then the footsteps of the teacher going into his own quarters. He waited a minute before getting his coat and his copy of "_Five Centuries of Verse", _then quietly pushing the door open. In the gloom he saw the dull red of Cameron's hair as he stepped out of his room. Pitts' tall form was waiting in the hallway, looking a little ominous in his cloak.

Neil tiptoed over to the door opening to the annex and then knocked twice. Moments later, Vanessa stepped out, also dressed warmly for the evening and carrying what appeared to be a bag of cookies. "Finally!" she whispered. "I thought they'd never get to sleep."

"It's still a little early in the evening," Neil said before they followed their friends downstairs, and out to the woods. There, the ground was moist from a recent rain shower, and the air was crisp and a little chilly. "_No wonder Thoreau went into the woods," _Neil thought as the entire group broke into a run. In the darkness, the flashlights of the group made them all seem like overly large fireflies, flitting further and further into the thicket.

Vanessa caught Neil's hand as they neared the cave. "After all this excitement, I won't know what to do with myself when the holidays start," she said.

"Same here," Neil replied, pulling her close for a moment. He could smell the lingering scent of bath soap and a hint of cologne in her hair. "But that's a long time from now, thankfully."

"Just a matter of weeks," Vanessa sighed as she pulled her hair out of her face and tried to smooth it down. "I look like some frightful Maenad now, don't I?"

Neil shook his head. "More like a beautiful wood-nymph," he said in her ear before giving her a kiss on her cheek. "Let's go in now."

In the cave, Todd had already set up a light on 'the god of the cave'. "Nice moment out there," he remarked as Neil got to his usual spot.

"You were watching?" Neil asked in an undertone. Todd merely smiled before reciting with the rest of the group their opening passage, only to hear some feminine giggling from _outside_ the cave.

Vanessa looked around confusedly. "What's going on?"

Cameron's jaw dropped. "Oh my God," he whispered as Charlie entered the cave, followed by two curly haired young women. One of them was considerably well-endowed, that much Neil could see even without his friends training their flashlights over her chest.

"Hi you guys. Meet Gloria and uh…." Charlie said, looking towards his companions.

"Tina," the less buxom girl hissed.

"Tina," Charlie finished. "This is the pledge class of the Dead Poets Society."

Vanessa managed what appeared to be a friendly smile at the girls. "How do you do?" she said, prompting the boys to also chime in with their own greetings. However Neil could tell from Vanessa's stiff manner that she was not entirely comfortable with the presence of these newcomers.

Charlie waved his hands for attention. "Guys, I have an announcement to make. In keeping with the spirit of passionate experimentation of the Dead Poets, I'm giving up the name Charlie Dalton. From now on, call me Nuwanda."

This was met with chuckles and snorts from the group. "Nuwanda?" Neil repeated incredulously.

"What kind of a name is that?" Vanessa asked.

Charlie merely smirked at them before using a tube of lipstick from Tina's purse to draw markings on his cheeks. "So are we going to have a meeting or what?"

"Yeah, how does it go?" Gloria said, looking directly at Vanessa. "Maybe we might want to join."

"We read poems, we talk-"Vanessa said.

"Is that all you do?"

"Most of the time."

By this point Charlie edged closer to Tina."_Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate," _he said.

Tina looked at him. "That's so sweet."

"I made that up, just for you," Charlie replied, ignoring the snickers and eye rolls his friends were giving him. Neil wanted to disappear at that moment, anything to get him away from his friend's attempts at wooing.

Yet it seemed as if Charlie would not be deterred. "I made another one for you, Gloria," he said to the other girl. "_She walks in beauty like the night…She walks in beauty like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies. All that's best, dark and bright, Meet in her aspect and her eyes_."

Gloria seemed to have stars in her eyes. "That's beautiful."

"There's plenty more where that came from," Charlie said, giving his friends a brief grin of triumph.

"You're so lucky having these boys to read you poetry," Tina said to Vanessa.

"It's better when one can _read_ the poetry," Vanessa replied. She brought a folded paper out of her coat. "Ladies and gentlemen, a poem from Emily Dickinson:

"_The Poets light but Lamps—_

_Themselves—go out—_

_The Wicks they stimulate—_

_If vital Light_

_Inhere as of the Suns-  
Each Age a Lens_

_Disseminating their_

_Circumference" _

Gloria and Tina gave Vanessa puzzled looks even as the rest of the group applauded. "It's too complicated," Gloria protested.

"Maybe they could read…" Vanessa suggested, picking up the copy of "_Five Centuries of Verse" _despite Cameron's dagger looks.

"It's fine, I think I'd prefer to listen," Tina said. She looked at Neil. "Why don't _you_ read me a poem too?"

"_Oh great," _Neil thought. He felt Vanessa grab his arm, and he saw her bite her lip. He got the poetry book from her and flipped through the pages till he found a Whitman poem that had a few verses underlined here and there in pencil.

"_A WOMAN waits for me-she contains all, nothing is lacking  
Yet all were lacking, if sex were lacking, or if the moisture of the  
right man were lacking._

Without shame the man I like knows and avows the deliciousness of his  
sex,  
Without shame the woman I like knows and avows hers." 

_Now I will dismiss myself from impassive women,  
I will go stay with her who waits for me, and with those women that  
are warm-blooded and sufficient for me;  
I see that they understand me, and do not deny me;  
I see that they are worthy of me-I will be the robust husband of  
those women._

They are not one jot less than I am,  
They are tann'd in the face by shining suns and blowing winds,  
Their flesh has the old divine suppleness and strength,  
They know how to swim, row, ride, wrestle, shoot, run, strike,  
retreat, advance, resist, defend themselves,  
They are ultimate in their own right-they are calm, clear, well-  
possess'd of themselves." 

As he finished the poem, he glanced to the side to catch Vanessa's gaze. She had been listening intently, in contrast to Tina's perplexed and slightly aghast expression. "I like it," she pronounced.

"It's not romantic," Tina protested.

"Yeah, what kind of a poem is that, Neil?" Charlie chided him.

"It doesn't even rhyme," Gloria sneered.

"Not all poetry has to rhyme," Vanessa cut in.

Gloria rolled her eyes at this. An awkward silence fell over the cave, during which Tina brought out a flask of alcohol and handed it to Neil. The young man took a swig to be polite, but nothing more. He offered the flask to Vanessa, only to have Tina swipe it right back.

"You guys don't have many girls at Welton, I hear," Gloria said, looking at Meeks and Pitts. Todd by this time had made himself quite inconspicuous in a corner.

"Just fifteen," Meeks said.

"Bet you wish there were more."

"Yeah," most of the other boys said with grins.

"And you guys don't have much fun here. No parties, nothing to do…:" Tina said.

"Which is part of what this club is all about. I've published an article in the school paper, in the name of the Dead Poets," Charlie said. "Asking for an open party here at Welton."

Neil felt as if someone had dropped ice down his back. "You're kidding right?"

"No shit Sherlock."

"How the hell did you do that?" Vanessa asked angrily.

"I'm one of the proofers. I slipped it in last Wednesday," Charlie said.

Vanessa gritted her teeth. "So that's what you were doing in the newsroom."

"Don't you think they'll figure out who wrote it?" Cameron demanded. "They're going to ask who the Dead Poets Society is. Charlie, you had no right to do something like that."

"It's Nuwanda," Charlie corrected. "Are we just playing around here or do we mean what we say? We can't just stop at reading poetry all the time."

Neil shook his head, already knowing that this was not going to end well. "I know, but Cameron has a point. You still shouldn't have done it. This could mean trouble. You don't speak for the club."

"Hey would you not worry about your precious little neck?" Charlie retorted. "If they ask, I'll say I made it up."

Cameron rolled his eyes. "Like they will believe that."

"I don't see what's so wrong with the idea, considering that Vanessa here has also written an article about a controversial play," Charlie said.

Neil looked at Vanessa incredulously. "What play was it?"

"_A Raisin in the Sun" _Vanessa replied. "It's about a black family dealing with insurance problems. The play ran on Broadway this year. What's so wrong about that?"

"The fact that you were told to tone it down?" Charlie challenged her.

"It is a _literature review_, not an objectionable petition," Vanessa said. "Besides I had the guts to sign it in my name, not in the name of the Dead Poets."

Neil had to bury his face in his arm, just to hide the smirk he knew he had on hearing this exchange. He passed the book on to Meeks, who declined it with a shake of his head. "I think what Charlie did and what Vanessa did are two entirely different matters," he said.

"With the same outcome. How could you be so stupid?" Cameron said.

"One more crack, Cameron, I swear…" Vanessa began, holding up her fist for emphasis.

Gloria rolled her eyes before beginning to massage Charlie's shoulders. "Have you got any more poetry for me?" she crooned.

"Well…." Charlie began, obviously taken off-guard by this request. "_How do I love thee? Let me count the ways…" _

Cameron gave Charlie a disgusted look. "I'm out of here. See you in the morning," he said before getting up.

"Cameron-" Neil began, moving to try to stop him.

"Leave him be," Vanessa said, taking his arm. "I suppose _Nuwanda _that you might prefer some privacy?"

Charlie stopped reciting while Gloria glared at Vanessa. "But what about your meeting?"

"It can wait," Meeks replied, catching on to Vanessa's drift. "Come on Pitts, let's go," he said, clapping his roommate on the shoulder.

Neil glanced at Todd, who was still silent in his nook. "You okay in there?"

"Y-yeah. I think I'll follow Meeks and Pitts," Todd replied uncomfortably.

Neil sighed, realizing now that the meeting was as good as done. "Good luck Charlie," he said, getting up to go after Vanessa and Todd. He found them standing a short distance from the cave, talking in hushed voices.

"Everything alright?" Neil asked them.

Todd shook his head. "She's scared."

"It's all going to go to hell on Monday," Vanessa whispered. "My article, and Charlie's. We…even you guys will be in trouble."

"You don't know that," Neil said, trying to fight back his uneasiness. Yet even then he knew that there was nothing he could say that would banish the foreboding that had been unleashed that night.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 (Vanessa) I Heard It Was Said**

"Vanessa, wake up! There's going to be an assembly!"

At the sound of Annie's voice outside her room, Vanessa burrowed deeper under the covers. "It's Saturday, you've got to be kidding."

"No I'm not! Get dressed and hurry!"

Vanessa reluctantly sat up and blinked, wondering what reason there could be for these summons. A cold chill ran down her back as she recalled what she and her friends had discussed back in the cave. "Oh my God, no," she murmured as she scrambled out of bed. Her hands shook as she hurriedly threw on a clean uniform and tried to untangle her hair. As the sounds of her fellow students rushing downstairs became louder, Vanessa dived under her bed to look for her shoes.

Another knock sounded on her door. "Van, hurry up!" her brother John yelled.

"A moment!" Vanessa shouted, getting her loafers on. She opened the door and saw her brother's perplexed expression. "Something wrong?"

"Van, is it true you're going to be in trouble for writing that article about the play?" he asked in an undertone.

Vanessa shrugged. "I really hope not." While she knew already that Charlie wouldn't get away with what he had done, she couldn't help but hope that the administrators would not see any objections as to _her_ work.

John glanced over his shoulders. "Those girls seem to think so."

Vanessa snorted, noticing that Theodosia was in the giggling group going down the stairs ahead of them. "They can say what they want," she muttered. She desperately wished that she could sit with Neil and their friends during this tense event, but the rules dictated that she would have to be seated with the other girls of the school. She could feel her stomach slowly twisting into knots as she entered the hall, and found a place at the edge of a row. She glanced towards her friends, noticing for the first time that Knox had bruises on his face and a split lip. "_Last night didn't go well," _she realized. Annie caught her gaze and gave her a worried smile just as the entire faculty of Welton Academy stormed into the hall.

Nolan's look was stern as the students got to their feet. "Sit," he commanded after a few moments.

"In this week of Welton's Honor, there appeared not just one, but _two_ profane and unauthorized articles," Nolan began, his eyes narrowing at the assembly. "While one writer has already owned up and put _her_ name on her work, there are clearly other perpetrators behind the second article in question. Rather than spend my valuable time ferreting out the guilty persons- and let me assure you I will find them - I'm asking any and all students who know anything about this article to make themselves known here and now. Whoever the guilty persons are, this is your only chance to avoid expulsion from this school."

"_I'm doomed," _Vanessa thought, feeling all her strength leave her. Suddenly the obnoxious sound of a phone ringing broke the deathly silence.

"Hello, Welton Academy. Yes he is, just a moment," Charlie said from his seat. He stood up, holding the phone. "Mr. Nolan, it's for you. It's God. He says we should have a party here at Welton."

Vanessa cringed even as the rest of the students laughed. She glanced over at the other members of the Dead Poets Society, all of whom were wearing expressions of disbelief and shock. In fact Neil was rubbing his temples, clearly already expecting the worst. "_I can't believe it," _she thought, daring to look at Charlie's unrepentant smile.

Mr. Nolan's face twisted with fury. "Mr. Dalton, my office right now!" he roared. He looked towards the girls' section. "That goes for you too, Miss O'Donnell."

"My, my aren't we in trouble today," Theodosia remarked under her breath, shooting Vanessa a snide look.

"You just shut up," Vanessa hissed, already seeing Hager ready to escort her and Charlie to Nolan's office. She risked a glance at her friends before she was quickly ushered out of the hall.

"I'll deal with Miss O'Donnell first," Nolan said as they got to the door of the office. Hager stood with Charlie while Vanessa followed Nolan into the room.

Nolan stood in front of his desk. "You are already aware that defiance has no place in this institution. You have deliberately disobeyed a direct order from a faculty member. There will be a corresponding penalty for this."

"I was told to tone down my article. I revised it and even changed some of the words to make it less…charged," Vanessa said, finding her voice at last. Despite her shaking knees, her head felt clear and she found she could breathe. "I did exactly what I was told to do."

"Your treatment of the subject offends the sensibilities of this school," Nolan snapped. "Unless you retract the article, you will be off the school paper. You have one day to do so. Consider this as a lenient penalty, Miss O'Donnell. You're dismissed."

"_He can't be serious," _Vanessa thought as she left Nolan's office. Her mind was awhirl now and she no longer trusted herself to speak. She barely had time to notice Charlie being brought in before the door closed behind him.

"Run along Miss O'Donnell. You may not eavesdrop on this," Hager warned her. Vanessa nodded before running back to the dormitory.

Most of the seniors were waiting in the hallway. Neil walked up to her right away and touched her hand. "What happened?" he asked in a low voice.

"Either I retract or I don't write," Vanessa managed to say. She clutched Neil's arm and buried her face in his shoulder, seeking some comfort from the feel of him near her. "I won't do it."

"Just follow what Nolan says, Van," Cameron piped up. "What's one article compared to being allowed to write for the rest of my year?"

Vanessa pulled away from Neil to look Cameron in the eye. "I did nothing wrong."

"You disobeyed."

"I have principles."

"Cameron, cut it out," Neil said furiously.

From where he stood in the doorway of his room, Todd cleared his throat. "What happened to Charlie?"

"I don't know. Nolan's talking to him now," Vanessa replied.

"He'll probably get paddled," Pitts said.

"What!"

"It's happened before."

"_What kind of a hellhole did I get enrolled into?" _Vanessa wondered. She reluctantly accepted some extra biscuits Neil had lying around before waiting with the rest of the boys in the hall.

At length Charlie returned, walking stiffly. Some of the boys gave him a wide berth as he headed to his room. "You kicked out?" Neil asked worriedly.

Charlie hung his head. "I have to turn everybody in, apologize to the school, and everything will be forgiven."

"So what are you going to do? Charlie…" Neil asked.

Charlie looked him in the face. "Damn it Neil. The name is Nuwanda," he said, his lips turning out in a smile. "What about you, Van?"

"I retract, or I don't write again," Vanessa replied. "I'm not going to do it."

"But what about the school paper? I thought you wanted to be on it," Neil said.

Vanessa found now that she could laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Who said that was the only place I could write?" she said, kissing his cheek.


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: Finally got back to this story after months. Medical school has been keeping me busy. I also still do not know what to do with Neil. Anyway I will finish this story, however long it takes me._

**Chapter 21 (Neil) Choking on the Bones**

The reality was that punishing Charlie Dalton only made him a bit of a celebrity, or if not, a curiosity among the students, male and female alike. "_It's definitely refuge in audacity," _Neil thought as he stopped by the lounge after coming back from a rehearsal. A group was already gathered around Charlie in order to listen to his 'poetic' retelling of the affair. A good many members of the senior class, as well as some of the younger girls were also in attendance.

As Neil looked around, he caught sight of Vanessa sitting by herself in a corner, engrossed in reviewing the contents of a notebook. He quickly walked up to her and touched her shoulder. "Working on something?" he asked candidly.

"Latin," she said, holding up her notes. She swallowed hard as she looked at him. "You ought to go before they start talking about you too."

"What?"

"No one, aside from the Dead Poets, wants to talk to me after what happened this morning."

Neil shook his head. "Let them." He sat next to her and touched her hand. "I can't judge that play you reviewed; I have to see it for myself first," he commented more lightly.

She cracked a smile and leaned into him. "That's the sanest thing I've heard anyone say about what I did. In the few hours you've been gone...well I've been called everything from nigger-lover to troublemaker."

It was all that he could do not to cringe or swear."_If I'd been around, I would have had something to say to them," _he thought, feeling an unusual rage in him. "So what did you do?" he asked her tentatively.

"I just let them. I've had enough drama for one day," she said, leading Neil to sit with the rest of the group listening to Charlie.

Charlie was keeping time with his hand solemnly beating the bongos. "Assume the position," he chanted in a hollow voice as he continued tapping the drums. Just at that moment, the lounge door opened and Mr. Keating stepped in.

"It's all right," the teacher said kindly before the students scrambled to their feet. He looked directly at Charlie. "That was a pretty lame stunt you pulled today," he continued in a more serious tone.

Charlie's jaw dropped. "You're siding with Mr. Nolan? But what about Carpe Diem and sucking the marrow out of life and all that?"

"Sucking the marrow of life does not mean choking on the bone. Sure there's a time for daring and a time for caution, and a wise man understands which is called for," Mr. Keating continued, not losing his grave tone.

Charlie looked sceptical. "But I thought you'd like that!"

"No. Your being expelled from school is not daring to me," Mr. Keating replied. "It's stupid, since you'll miss some golden opportunities."

"Yes, the opportunity to be censored?" Vanessa chimed in bitterly.

"Again, you must pick the battles you will fight, Miss O'Donnell," Mr. Keating said.

"So should I retract what I wrote?"

The teacher sighed deeply. "Whatever you choose, do it prudently. You must pick the battles you can fight," he advised. "I'm not saying that what you wrote was wrong; but that it simply was not received well."

"A hazard of any writer, I should think," Vanessa muttered.

"_He knows she's not going to take back her article," _Neil realized, even as he reached over to touch Vanessa's back. He knew why Mr. Keating was erring on the side of caution, but it was evident that the matter had worried the teacher quite deeply.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "I don't see what opportunities can be had in this situation, Captain."

"If nothing else, the opportunity to attend my classes," Mr. Keating said simply. "Got that, Ace?"

A smile spread over Charlie's face. "Aye, aye Captain."

"Keep your head about you. That goes for the lot of you," Mr. Keating said to the group. He shook his head. "Phone call from God...if it had been collect, _that_ would have been daring."

The students chuckled at this quip as Mr. Keating left the room. Charlie adjusted his bongos and motioned for the rest of the group to come nearer. "Alright, let's go on."

As Charlie's recitation ended, Vanessa looked down at her notes and tossed them aside. "I suppose I won't be borrowing your typewriter again any time soon," she said wryly to Neil as the group dispersed.

"What if you didn't have to write just for the school paper here?" Neil suggested, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "I mean, you said so yourself. There's got to be someplace else you can send your work."

"Hah, I send it in by post and under a pseudonym?"

"Well why not?"

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. "I suddenly had this mental image of myself writing in the middle of the night, hiding in your closet just so Hager won't catch me with your typewriter."

"I'll bring the typewriter to your room if you need it," he offered. "That would be a little easier to explain away."

"Thank you. I'll tell you _when_ I need it," Vanessa said, clasping his hand just as a bell rang signalling the students to proceed to the hall for dinner.

Todd walked by, clutching his Chemistry notebook in one hand. "Are you two up to something?" he asked Neil and Vanessa curiously.

"Just talking about writing," Neil replied. He noticed a loose leaf of paper poking out of Todd's notebook. "You know, it would be great if one day you could read in the cave the poem you've been working on," he said.

Todd turned beet red as he snatched the loose leaf out and stuffed it in his pocket. "It's no good. Not yet. Not like that which Mr. Keating pulled out of me in class."

"But someday you will read it?" Vanessa asked more hopefully.

"Uh, maybe."

"It's pot roast again tonight!" Cameron shouted from the door.

"We can't even digest that stuff, Cameron," Charlie drawled as he walked up. "Guess we weren't expecting that reaction from the Captain, huh?"

"He does have a point," Neil said. "It's not going to do anyone any good if people get expelled."

"You're one to talk, Neil," Cameron chimed in. "What are you going to do then if your father finds out about you being in a play?"

"He's _not_ going to find out!" Neil retorted. Why on earth did Cameron have to bring up this matter at all? "I mean, he's not _likely_ to at least," he added quickly.

"Cameron, really, do you have to do that?" Vanessa asked the redhead irately.

"All I'm saying is that you three are taking risks you don't have to," Cameron said. "I mean this isn't just going to blow over. They're going to keep a tighter watch on things from now on, you'll see."

"Who's they?" Todd asked.

"Nolan and the faculty of course!" Cameron practically exploded. "They're going to eventually get to the truth of everything we're doing."

"I didn't rat any of you out, and nor did Vanessa. And what Neil is doing has nothing to do with you protecting your skin, Cameron," Charlie shot back.

Neil had to grab Cameron's shoulder before he could say anything more to add to the argument. "If you want out, fine. It's not as if you're being forced to stay or agree with everything we do." He had to take a deep breath before continuing; inasmuch as Cameron had been a friend over the past few years, it was still so difficult to get some points across to him. "But you can't stop me from doing the play, and I don't think you can stop Vanessa and Charlie from writing either. Can't you at least respect that?" he asked earnestly.

Cameron shook himself out of Neil's grip. "Fine. I won't say a thing, I'll keep all of your secrets-whatever they are. Like I always have. But one day, you'll hear me say, 'I told you so'," he said before stalking off to the dining hall.

Todd cringed as he glanced from Cameron to his three other friends. "He's not going to stay mad forever," he mumbled.

"He won't," Charlie said confidently. "I can't believe you actually said that to him, Neil."

"I had to. I didn't want to though," Neil replied. The play was coming up, and if he could just manage to stay out of his father's notice for that long, then that would be a victory enough for him. "_And let there be more, please let there be more," _he thought silently even as he held out his arm to Vanessa so he could walk with her to dinner.

By unspoken agreement, the group did not speak of this argument over dinner, or even at the study group later that evening. In fact Neil did not think about it at all, not until the next morning. He'd set his alarm clock a little earlier than usual in order to get in some extra time for reviewing for Trigonometry, since he was planning on staying late that evening at Henley Hall for rehearsals. As he was dressing for the day, he heard what sounded like raised voices coming from the girls' annex. The connecting door was partially open, so Neil slipped into a corner to listen to what this commotion was all about.

"You have no idea what your foolishness is doing to me, Vanessa! All I ask is that you behave yourself, and you give in to this rebellious, disobedient side of yours! How am I supposed to trust you being here-how do I know you haven't been up to other mischief?" an older woman shouted shrilly. "All my friends have been asking what on earth I've been letting you read to give you those ideas!"

"Mom, I just wrote a _review about a play_," Vanessa's voice replied tersely. "There's nothing wrong with a play that's about a family trying to make its way in the world."

"A play about _Negroes_!"

"It's not as if they are invisible or bad or something so wrong. Other writers do stories about them too and the government doesn't censor them for that,"

"I don't care about what other writers do. You're my daughter and I don't want people getting the idea that I've raised you to run wild and have your head all wrong on your shoulders. You're lucky that Mr. Nolan didn't take the first chance to expel you," Vanessa's mother retorted. "You should thank your father that he was able to talk with Mr. Nolan to go easy on you. I was all for pulling you out of this school but your father thinks you can still learn a lesson or two here."

"He's _not_ my father!"

The telltale smack of a hand connecting with a cheek rang out in the morning quiet. "Don't you dare talk about him that way! You owe him everything; we would still be living on nothing if it weren't for him," Mrs. O'Donnell seethed. "You will recant that piece from the school paper. Please, for our family's sake. Not just for me and your father, but even for your brother."

"They've already kicked me off the staff," Vanessa murmured. "You don't have to worry about anything anymore. And they won't pick on John for it; he's doing well enough on his own without me."

The older woman sighed. "You know I love you, Vanessa."

"Yeah. I love you too, Mom. I'll see you this Christmas."

"I know you'll be a good girl. See you then."

Neil waited for the sound of Mrs. O'Donnell's footsteps to fade on the stairway before he slipped out of his corner. He swallowed hard as he caught sight of Vanessa standing in the hallway, holding one hand to her rapidly reddening right cheek. She was wearing a faded pink bathrobe over her nightclothes. "Van..." he whispered, not really sure what to say now to her.

The girl took a deep shaky breath. "I thought...she'd be on my side."

"What exactly did she mean about her friends asking her?" Neil asked, going over to look at Vanessa's cheek. A livid red handprint was forming there; it would be impossible to cover it up in time for class.

"More like the friends of her husband. They pounce on any possible gossip they can find, even if it's about other people's children," Vanessa said bitterly. She hissed as she felt Neil's fingers on her skin. "I've got to get some cold water on this. It looks bad, doesn't it?"

"It will fade later," Neil said, hoping to reassure her. There was no way he could pretend to understand what she was going through; inasmuch as he hated his own situation he knew that Vanessa's troubles were in another league altogether. He let go of her and waited as she went into the bathroom to wash her face and comb her hair out.

After a few minutes she emerged, looking quite composed except for the fact that her eyes were a little puffy and red. "So what are you doing up so early?" she asked less morosely.

"Studying. I have rehearsals till past dinner time tonight," Neil said. "I can't believe the play is coming up in less than two weeks."

Vanessa counted out on her fingers. "Nine days! Time flies fast when you're having fun, doesn't it?"

"You're telling me," Neil agreed. It really did seem like yesterday when he'd decided to attend the audition. He reached for Vanessa to pull her close so he could kiss her forehead. "You sure you'll be okay? I mean, aside from your cheek?"

"I can deal. Honestly. We just have this sort of discussion some times, that's all," Vanessa said. She sighed as she looked down at her own state of undress. "I'll just get ready for the day and I'll join you in the lounge."

"You could still get a few minutes of rest," he pointed out. Judging by the circles under Vanessa's eyes, it looked like she'd need it.

She shook her head. "I don't want to get back to sleep, not anymore."


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N: Another chapter, before the trouble REALLY hits the fan. Thanks to angel2u for the review!_

**Chapter 22 (Vanessa): What Mentors Are For**

"_Cry for a day, pick yourself up and move on," _Vanessa told herself as she put a new sheet of paper in the typewriter. She shivered and adjusted her scarf before continuing to type. She frowned at the rattling of the heater in the corner; it wouldn't be long before it would give out and she would have to spend the night sleeping in her coat.

She had gotten to the end of a line when she heard a knock on the door. "Who is it?" she called, not looking up from her paper.

"It's me, Annie!"

Vanessa pushed back her chair and went to the door. "What brings you here?" she asked curiously, opening the door slightly. Over the past few days, none of the other girls at Welton gave her anything more than sneers or barely polite nods when she entered the room. After all what else could be done about a hellraiser?

Annie nervously tugged at one strand of her frowsy brown hair. "Can I come in? I need to ask you about something."

"Um, what is it?" Vanessa said, stepping back to let her schoolmate in. "I mean, you could ask Theodosia and the others right?"

Annie shook her head. "You know better than them about what I want to do," she said, moving to sit cross-legged on the bed. "It's not about a boy or clothes. I was wondering..."

"What?"

"You think I could go to the East Coast for college and take up Engineering?"

Vanessa nodded. "Anything is possible, you know. Nothing's stopping you."

"It's mostly boys who get into these things," Annie sighed. "I really want to get into advanced Trig and other things next year; you think you can help me?"

"Like how?"

"Hager says I need straight A's in my Math and Science classes this year if I want to be considered for that."

Vanessa's mouth made an O of surprise. "_Will wonders ever cease?" _she thought. "Well since I'm off the school paper, I could make the time," she said. After all she couldn't stay writing in her room during all her off-hours.

Annie shrieked before jumping up to hug Vanessa. "Thank you! You're the best, you know?" she said. "I'll really, really make it up to you, and get something nice for you this Christmas."

"Don't mention it," Vanessa replied, awkwardly disentangling herself from the hug. "Just feel free to approach me any time during study period."

Annie nodded gleefully before glancing towards Vanessa's desk. "I didn't know you have a typewriter," she said.

"Neil lent it to me," Vanessa explained. She hadn't asked for it, but she'd returned one day to her room after Latin remedial and found the typewriter on her desk. "_I didn't know that Neil knew how to pick locks," _she thought to herself. Perhaps she'd ask him more about it the day after tomorrow, when the play was over.

Annie raised an eyebrow. "But I thought you were off the school paper?"

"I do other writing of my own," Vanessa explained. With any luck she would finish a short essay soon and send it off to be published. She planned one of these days to bike with Neil to town just to put her work into the post. "_Weather permitting," _she thought, listening to the wind beginning to howl outside the windows.

Annie glanced at the typewriter again before sighing. "Maybe I'll get one next school year," she said more brightly. "Thanks again," she added before leaving the room.

Vanessa sighed as the door closed. "Now where were we?" she wondered aloud before getting back to work. After finishing a paragraph, she frowned on finding herself stuck on another sentence. "_It's always the endings that are difficult," _she thought, gritting her teeth with frustration. "_How the heck did Shakespeare do it?" _After a while she got up and headed out of the room, hoping to find some inspiration.

She shook her head as she glanced at the old clock in the large lobby of the dormitory building. "_Five o'clock; the guys are still at their activities, and I've got nothing to do," _she thought. Before she could head towards the library, she caught sight of a car being parked just outside the door. An elderly-looking man with an annoyed expression on his face stepped out.

Vanessa nearly froze on recognizing who this visitor was. "_What's Neil's father doing here?" _she wondered, taking a cautious step back. Even now she already knew what had happened, and there was no way she could stop the impending confrontation. Before she could flee the lobby, Mr. Perry had already entered the building.

He nodded curtly to her. "Good afternoon, young lady. Miss O'Donnell, isn't it?"

Vanessa was stunned for a moment, wondering how Mr. Perry had remembered her name. "Yes Sir. How may I help you, Mr. Perry?" she managed to say.

"Have you seen my son, Neil?" he demanded.

"Not for a few hours. We don't have the same extracurricular activities, Sir," she said. It was the most truthful answer she could give; there was no way she was going to tell Mr. Perry _exactly_ where Neil was, even if it was obvious that the cat was already out of the bag.

"I see. Thank you," Mr. Perry said before marching on upstairs.

"_Oh my God, this cannot be happening!" _Vanessa thought, now thoroughly panicked. She ran up to her room to grab her coat and put on a warmer pair of shoes. Just as she was on her way down, she nearly collided with Todd, who was coming up the stairs.

"Van, where are you going?" he asked when he regained his composure.

"I have to find Neil. It's an emergency," Vanessa said breathlessly, barely giving him a nod of acknowledgment before hurrying on her way. Within a few minutes, she was biking frantically to Henley Hall.

By the time she got there, a drizzle was starting and she could feel the cold through her clothes. "_Please let him still be here," _she prayed as she pulled hard on the brakes, hearing the slight screech of the rubber on the ground. She looked up in time to see the cast members of the play filing out of the auditorium, some of them talking and laughing excitedly, while others simply looked exhausted.

It did not take her long to locate the tall, gangly figure talking animatedly to another friend of his. "Neil!" she shouted though she was shivering all over.

Neil glanced at her and hurried over. "What are you doing here, Van?" he asked. He reached for her hands and rubbed her fingers. "Your hands are cold!"

"I know. But I had to warn you," she said as she tried to catch her breath. "Your father is at Welton now. He wants to talk to you."

"What?" Neil asked in disbelief. "You saw him?"

"He asked me where you were. I didn't tell him," she replied.

Neil swallowed hard as he led her into the auditorium, where it was much warmer. "You came all the way here to Henley just to tell me that?" he asked as they sat in the front row of the auditorium. His eyes were dark with confusion and fear, and he buried his face in his hands.

She nodded. "I didn't want you to face him unprepared." After a few moments she reached over and squeezed his arm. "What are you going to do?"

"Of course I have to talk to him," Neil said, looking up at her. "If only I could explain to him how much this play means to me, that I _have_ to do this...but he just won't listen."

"Have you ever really tried?"

Neil shook his head. "He just changes the topic when I bring it up. He's been doing that for some years now."

Vanessa sighed as she moved so that she was kneeling in front of him. "Neil, you have to face him. You should do it, and I know you can."

"Is it going to do any good?" Neil asked bitterly.

Vanessa looked down, remembering how her own confrontation with her mother had played out. "There's nothing wrong with trying again," she said. "_Carpe Diem_. If there's a risk worth taking, it's this one."

Neil just took a deep breath and helped her to her feet. "Let's just go back to Welton, Van. I don't think you want to miss dinner."

"Neil, I can't believe you're giving up!" Vanessa exclaimed. "It's not like you to do this."

"I'm not giving up, I just don't know what to do," Neil retorted. "Or rather I don't know what to say to him."

"Maybe you could ask for help..." Vanessa trailed off. A harebrained suggestion was coming to mind, but she decided to voice it out all the same. "What if we could ask the Captain?"

"Mr. Keating?"

"He could help you better than I can."

Neil paused for a moment and nodded. "You think I can talk to him?"

"I think he'll be willing. It's just a matter of finding him before your father catches you," Vanessa said. She wasn't sure how that would be possible, but at this point she knew that Neil was desperate enough to take any beneficial-sounding suggestion.

"We'll have to get in through the back door then," Neil said. He nodded to a teacher peering in through the door. "We were about to go, Ma'am. My friend just had to talk to me," he said.

"Alright. Time to get some rest, Mr. Perry. You have a long night tomorrow," the teacher said.

Vanessa let Neil slip his arm around her shoulders as they left the auditorium. However they were greeted by the sight of the rain coming down in sheets. "Maybe we are missing dinner," she said glumly as they sat on the steps. "Maybe your father will get fed up and leave," she added, nestling closer for warmth.

"Not likely," Neil said as he began to play with the ends of her hair. "Wish we hadn't both biked here. It would have been easier to hitch a ride back to Welton."

"With who?" she kidded.

Neil nodded ruefully. "I wish they'd save some dinner for us."

"Todd saw me on my way out. Maybe he'll remember."

"I think someone already did," Neil said, pointing to where a car was driving up to the auditorium. "Hager is going to be a little grouchy, but not for long I hope."

Vanessa swallowed hard, already half-expecting to deal with the crotchety Trigonometry teacher. However to her shock she saw Mr. Keating and Todd step out of the car.

Neil stood up first. "Good evening Captain," he greeted.

Mr. Keating motioned for them to get into the car. "You have a lot of explaining to do, Neil Perry," he said seriously.


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N: The chapter in which things just blow up. Some of the lines here are taken or paraphrased from Neil's conversations with his father, and later with Mr. Keating in his office. I just shifted the locations for drama's sake. _

_I'm sorry if Neil sounds emotional and a little self-centered here, but this is just how I imagine if he'd been given free rein to express himself at length. _

**Chapter 23 (Neil): I Hear That It Was Charged Against Me**

For a while all was silent in Mr. Keating's car. "_Where do I begin?" _Neil wondered as he tried to get comfortable in the backseat, or at least as comfortable as he could get with Vanessa curled up against him. He knew he had to explain his predicament to his teacher, assuming that it wasn't already made known. "_It's the least I can do after he came out to get me and Vanessa." _

Todd cleared his throat first. "Your father is still there, Neil," he mumbled. "I heard him tell Mr. Nolan he's not going till he talks to you."

The taller boy sighed deeply. "I thought so."

"Is anyone else looking for us at Welton?" Vanessa asked.

"Just the guys. Hager doesn't know you're gone. That's why I told Mr. Keating," Todd said.

Mr. Keating glanced back briefly at Neil. "I take that your father doesn't know you went for the play?" he asked.

Neil shook his head miserably. "I faked the permission letter. There was no way he was going to let me be in the play. He doesn't know that acting is everything to me," he admitted. He hung his head at these words if he didn't get in trouble for being in the play without permission, he would still be under disciplinary action anyway for forgery.

Mr. Keating sighed. "Have you ever really tried talking to your father, Neil?"

Neil took a deep breath. "He changes the topic when I bring it up. And if not, he tells me acting is a waste of time and that I should do something he thinks is useful. I see his point; we're not a rich family like Charlie's, and we..." He had to stop before he stammered. "He's planning the rest of my life for me, and he's never asked me what I want."

"Have you ever told your father what you just said about your passion for acting? Have you ever showed him that?" Mr. Keating asked more kindly.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I can't talk to him this way." He could feel the tears stinging at his eyes by this point; part of him already was wishing they would get a flat tire, anything to delay his inevitable confrontation with his father. He looked out the window just so that Todd and Vanessa wouldn't see his face, but he still felt Vanessa's hand on his shoulder anyway.

"Then you're acting for him too. You're playing the part of a dutiful son," Mr. Keating said. "I wish it could go better for you, Neil, but you have to talk to him. You have to tell him what you really think, show him how much acting means to you."

"I already know what he'll say. He'll tell me acting is just a whim and I should just forget it," Neil continued. There was no way he could stop his words now; it was as if a dam was breaking. "He'll say that they're counting on me, and tell me to put it out of my mind for my own good. I don't see how it can go well."

"You are not an indentured servant. If it's not a whim for you, you prove it to him by your conviction and your passion. You show him that and if he still doesn't believe you, well, by then you'll be out of school and you can do anything you want," Mr. Keating told him firmly.

"Neil, didn't you apply for college scholarships to New York?" Todd chimed in. "I saw the forms on your desk. I-I think that Mr. Keating is right; after this anything can happen."

"That's months from now. But what about tonight?" Neil asked. He sighed as they came in sight of the lights of Welton's main hall. "_Dies irae_ alright."

Vanessa squeezed his shoulder. "You have to do this for yourself, Neil." She handed him a handkerchief. "Here, for your eyes."

"Thank you," Neil said as he took the handkerchief and wiped his face. "And thank you for coming out to get us," he said to Todd and Mr. Keating.

"Anytime," Todd said, giving him a smile.

Mr. Keating nodded as he parked the car. The rain had stopped now, and the pavement was glistening with puddles. "Be strong, Neil."

Neil swallowed hard before getting out of the car to help Todd unload the bikes from the trunk. Even as he was doing this, he could see his father storming out of the front door. "Father..." he greeted.

"Neil," Mr. Perry said sternly. His eyes narrowed at Mr. Keating and Vanessa. "I'd appreciate it if you'd let me talk to my son, in private."

"But Mr. Perry-" Vanessa blurted out.

"This is none of your business, young lady," Mr. Perry said curtly to her.

Mr. Keating nodded to Vanessa and Todd. "I'll help you return the bikes to the rack. Come on," he said in a hushed voice.

"_No, don't go!" _Neil wanted to say, but the very sight of his father's cold stare was enough to deaden the words in his throat. If he called out to them, he knew his father wouldn't stand for it and maybe even think of him as weak.

"What on earth were you thinking, Neil?" Mr. Perry seethed. "It's bad enough you've wasted your time with this acting business, but you've deliberately deceived me! How did you expect to get away with it?"

"I thought I'd surprise you-" Neil began, standing up straight. "I've been doing well, I've gotten A's in every class-"

"Don't you talk back to me!" Mr. Perry said, raising his voice. "Did you think I wasn't going to find out? "Oh, my niece is in a play with your son," says Mrs. Marks. "No, no, no," I say, "you must be mistaken. My son's not in a play." You made me a liar of me, Neil!"

"I was going to tell you-"

"When?" Mr. Perry demanded. "Who put you up to this? Was it this new teacher, Mr. Keating? Or that girl, Miss O'Donnell?"

"No! Neither of them! They have nothing to do with this!" Neil exclaimed, shocked at where this was going. Why was his father thinking this way? "It was all my doing," he said more slowly.

"Your doing? What you're supposed to be doing is taking your studies seriously so you can be a doctor!" Mr. Perry's eyes were cold with fury now. "I'm not going to let you waste your life on something so foolish."

"It's not foolish! Father, I know what you want for me, but I just can't..." Neil trailed off.

"What now?" Mr. Perry barked.

Neil took a deep breath, wishing at that moment he could disintegrate. "_But not after what Vanessa and Mr. Keating said," _he knew. "I can't do what you want me to do."

Mr. Perry stared at him for a moment. "You can't? Well what do you want to do then?"

Neil tried to make the words leave his lips, but he just hung his head. "_Would he even listen?" _he wondered, trying to speak again.

Mr. Perry rolled his eyes and shook his head. "If it's more of this acting business, you can forget about it. Tomorrow you will go to them and tell them you're quitting the play."

Neil's jaw dropped. "Father, I can't! The play is tomorrow night!"

"I don't care if the world ends tomorrow night, you are through with that play," Mr. Perry reiterated. "Is that clear?"

It was getting harder for Neil to breathe with the lump forming in his throat. "Yes Sir."

Mr. Perry sighed deeply. "I've sacrificed a lot for you to be here, Neil, and you're _not_ going to let me down," he said.

"No Sir," Neil found himself saying. Before he could add anything more, his father was already walking to his car. Neil trudged up to the front door and rested his head on it, unable to find the strength to enter the building. His vision was blurry and he could feel his legs beginning to wobble as he tried to catch his breath. After a few long moments he reached out to grip the knob to let himself in.

Mr. Keating was waiting there in the hallway. "What did he say?" he asked concernedly, steadying Neil with a hand on his shoulder.

"I have to quit the play," Neil said morosely. "I don't know what to do. I couldn't tell him, Mr. Keating. I don't know why I couldn't."

"You have to try again. I know it's hard for you, but if the play means that much to you, if you want to be in it with all your heart and soul, you have to tell him," Mr. Keating said.

"I don't feel I can do it."

"It's not about feeling, Neil. It's about what you believe."

Neil laughed morosely. "I'm trapped."

"No, you're not."

The boy blinked back tears even as he shook his head. "I'll figure out what to do, Mr. Keating. Thank you again," he said before walking up to his room to get rid of his coat and the other things he'd brought to rehearsal. Suddenly he found that his appetite was completely gone, and at any rate he did not want to face his friends while he was in this state.

Neil sat down on the floor for a long time, not sure he could make an effort to move. At last a knock sounded on the door. "Todd?" he called.

"And Van too," Vanessa said, opening the door.

"I saved some spaghetti and meatballs for you," Todd chimed in, holding out a plate piled high with food.

"_How did he sneak that up here?" _Neil wondered as he took off his coat and threw it at the foot of his bed. "Thanks, but I'm not hungry," he muttered.

"It didn't go well?" Todd asked worriedly as he and Vanessa stepped into the room.

"My father is making me quit the play," Neil said, feeling numb as the words left his lips.

Todd winced and Vanessa looked down. "I'm sorry." Vanessa whispered.

"But I can't quit. It's tomorrow...why did he have to come tonight?" Neil murmured, gritting his teeth as he sat on his bed. If his father had confronted him at the stage door or at Welton after the show, he knew he could have taken that. "_Can't I even enjoy acting for a little while?" _he thought despondently.

"You tried telling him why you can't quit?" Vanessa asked, moving to sit beside him while Todd put the plate of spaghetti on Neil's desk.

"Of course I did! I just couldn't tell him the rest of the things Mr. Keating said I should tell him," Neil knew he was shaking, both with cold and frustration, but he could not care less. "_I don't know how they can live with it," _he thought, thinking back on his friends' problems with their parents.

Vanessa quickly wrapped her arms around Neil's shoulders. "He's got to understand. You have to make him understand," she said.

"Maybe Mr. Keating can talk to your father-" Todd suggested as he got a spare blanket to throw around his still shuddering friend. "I think he can do it," he added more hopefully, sitting on Neil's other side.

"My father thinks Mr. Keating put me up to it. And you too, Vanessa," Neil whispered. It sickened him to think that his father could jump to such conclusions, just because Mr. Keating and Vanessa were newcomers to this institution.

"He can think what he wants to think about me," Vanessa replied. "I'm already a marked troublemaker, remember?"

Neil glanced at her, shocked a little at her words. "It's still not right."

Todd looked down at the floor. "There must be something else you can do. Neil, you can't just give up."

"What's left is to defy him. And I don't know if I am..." Neil trailed off. "_Strong enough," _he would have said, but that would have been admitting defeat. He closed his eyes as he tried to imagine how it would be to do the play anyway and go against his father's wishes once and for all. "_Do I dare?" _

Vanessa and Todd exchanged looks. "Should I?" Vanessa mouthed.

Todd paused before shaking his head. "I-I'll be in the lounge. Got some Latin to work on. I'll see you later Neil." He looked at Vanessa keenly. "Take care of him."

"I will," Vanessa said before Todd stepped out and locked the door behind him. She ran a hand through Neil's hair. "Todd knows a lot about this, huh?"

"He sees me studying all night and he knows why I have to," Neil explained. He shook his head at the memory of those late nights, slaving away over subjects he no longer had the heart for. "Did you and Todd talk about this?"

"Well something like it," Vanessa shrugged, moving her hand downwards to interlace her fingers with his. "I'm not leaving you alone, Neil. I don't care if Hager or someone else finds me in here."

"I wish I could be as strong as you, to defy things."

"No, just desperate. When you've got nothing left to lose, you become this way. You on the other hand have everything to gain. No. It has to be different for you. You deserve so much better, you've got to make yourself believe that."

Neil did not know what to say to this, but he simply held on to her hand more tightly. If there was anyone else he knew who'd understand this situation best, it was Vanessa. "Was your mother always that way-"

"That way with me? No. Not till she remarried, and then that was because of her husband's expectations. She used to love me and my brother, I think," Vanessa said. She looked down and shook her head. "I don't care. I don't want her approval, not anymore," she said in a smaller voice.

"What do you mean?"

" You...me...maybe we should just stop wanting these things that we'll never have."

Approval. That word hung so thick in the air such that Neil could almost see it in front of him. "I just wish my father would understand...we don't have to agree, but understanding, even just that!" he choked. "Medical school...being a doctor, it would kill me. I don't see myself with that fancy clinic and dealing with patients. It's not a _bad_ life but just no."

"I know." She looked him in the face. "You won't do well at medical school either if you don't love it. Ever tell that to your father?"

Neil shook his head. "_He'd just tell me to put my mind to it," _he thought. "Maybe I'll tell him first thing tomorrow," he mumbled.

She raised an eyebrow. "In the morning? But what about-"

"I just can't do it tonight, Van."

"I understand. But promise me you will."

Neil managed to nod. "Yes. In the morning."

The girl nodded before kissing his cheek. "Alright."

It was the last straw for Neil. He held her cheek gently, turning her face so that he could kiss her lips. She tasted of mint, tea, and something else much sweeter. Vanessa murmured his name before moving so that she was pressed up against him as she kissed him back a little awkwardly. Even so, he already tasted the saltiness of his own tears finally coming down as he fell against her and into her arms, desperate for whatever safety he could still find now.


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N: Another long chapter here, detailing the hours before the play. The scene with the blindfolds is actually cut from the movie. _

**Chapter 24 (Vanessa): As Consequent**

"_Calm before the storm, I guess," _Vanessa thought as she opened her eyes the next morning. Even from where she lay, she could see the sun rising on the white snow on the windowsill and beyond, turning Welton and its environs into an early winter wonderland. "_Well no wonder why they say it's nice up here in New England." _She rubbed her arms and pulled the blanket over her blouse ; even though she'd slept in her clothes, she still felt the cold in her bones.

As she sat up, she felt a hand close lightly around her wrist. "Good morning Neil," she greeted, smiling at the still drowsy boy who was lying next to her. "_Why does it feel so natural to just wake up next to him?" _she wondered silently as she watched him sit up. His hair was tousled and there were marks on his arms from the creases of his clothes and his bedsheets, but he certainly looked better than he did the night before when he practically cried himself to sleep.

"Good morning too, Van," Neil said, holding back a yawn. "What time is it?"

"I don't know, but I have to get back before people know I've been sleeping in your room," she said. She glanced towards the other bed in the room, where Todd still dozed on, with one arm tossed over his face. "I didn't even hear him come in from the study group. How are you feeling though?"

"We were both too tired. But I'm a lot better, I think," Neil remarked, rubbing his eyes. "About last night-"

"Don't mention it. You'd do the same for me, I know it."

"Of course," he said, moving to brush his lips against hers.

She giggled before kissing him back more passionately. "If we keep this up we will both be in serious trouble," she said as she pulled away. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, smiling as she noticed him playing with her hair again. In the morning quiet, it was easy to believe that they could share this peace indefinitely. "_At least till the day comes knocking," _she thought as she squeezed his hand lightly before getting out of bed to retrieve her shoes.

Meanwhile, Neil unlocked the door. "I'm glad you stayed. Thank you," he said with a smile.

"So am I. See you later," she replied before peering out to make sure that the coast was clear. At the very least she knew she'd prevented him from doing anything too desperate. She kissed his cheek gently before stepping out into the still silent hallway. The quiet out here was eerie and the shadows were far too long for her liking, so she walked even faster to the annex.

Just before she could reach the door, she heard a creaking behind her, nearly making her jump. "Van? What are you doing here?" she heard Knox ask in a furtive whisper.

Vanessa wheeled around and saw her friend standing in the hallway, dressed as if to head out into the snow. "It's a long story. Where are you going?"

Knox pointed to a paper in his coat pocket. "I'm going to read this to Chris."

"What, now in this weather? And what about Chet, her boyfriend?"

Knox merely grinned. "_Carpe Diem."_

Before Vanessa could say anything to this, another door opened in the hallway. "Hey Knoxious, Vanessa, what's going on?" Charlie asked.

"He's going to see Chris and read her a poem," Vanessa said, lowering her voice.

Charlie's jaw dropped. "Well, atta boy! You're going to read the poem-"

"And give her flowers...I don't know," Knox said. "I have to go, or I won't catch her before she goes to her class," he said before running down the stairs.

Vanessa rolled her eyes at Charlie. "This is either going to end very well, or very badly. You're helping me clean up if he comes back with a bloody nose, Nuwanda."

"He'll do fine as long as Chet doesn't find him," Charlie said smugly. "He's head over heels for her; he'll do just about anything."

Another door opened and this time Todd peered out. "Is Knox really going to..." he asked in a low whisper.

"Yes. For better and for worse," Vanessa replied.

Todd's eyes widened. "Wow. I mean it was going to happen, but today?"

"Well hell yeah," Charlie said.

"I really have to get changed. I can't go to class like this," Vanessa said, going to the annex door. Thankfully none of the other girls were awake, or at least out of her rooms, so she was able to slip to her room unnoticed and get ready for the day.

By the time she went down for breakfast, almost everyone else was up and about. Charlie and Todd had already told Neil, Meeks, Pitts, and Cameron about what Knox was up to, and the boys were already speculating as to the outcome of the matter. "Well Van, you think Knox stands a chance?" Meeks asked as Vanessa walked up to the breakfast table.

"I don't know Chris well enough to judge how she will react," she commented.

"Sounds perfectly embarrassing to me," Cameron muttered.

Neil quickly downed a glass of juice. "Why should it be?"

Cameron rolled his eyes, Charlie, Meeks and Pitts chuckled, while Todd gave his roommate a knowing look and elbowed him. Vanessa could feel her cheeks growing hot even as she reached for a piece of bread. "Some girls appreciate the show, others prefer being more discreet," she said simply.

"Where do you fall then?" Charlie asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Depends on who's doing it," Vanessa replied, giving Neil a conspiratorial smile.

Cameron shook his head. "You two make me sick."

"Aw, go beat off somewhere," Charlie muttered.

Vanessa sighed as the boys began arguing. "_How they have not killed each other yet is beyond me_," she thought as she quickly ate her breakfast. After this, Neil left ahead, saying that he had to see to something while the rest went up to get their books for the day. It was only then that Knox turned up, red-cheeked and looking winded.

"Hey how did it go? Did you read it to her?" Charlie asked him.

Knox grinned. "Yeah."

Meeks cheered while Vanessa gave Todd a high-five. Charlie motioned for the rest of them to be quiet. "What did she say?" Meeks asked.

"Nothing," Knox replied blithely.

"What do you mean nothing?" Charlie asked, agape with surprise. "Aw, what did she say?"

Vanessa shrugged as the rest of the boys continued to pester Knox about the outcome of the reading. "_But he's definitely done it, the ball is in her court now," _she thought, seeing that Knox looked visibly relieved and even overjoyed as they walked to class.

When they arrived in Mr. Keating's classroom for their last class of the day, each desk in the room had a blindfold on it. "That's for later," Mr. Keating instructed as the class settled in. "And no, Mr. Hopkins, that goes over your eyes, not on top of your head."

Even with Mr. Keating's usually engaging lecture style, Vanessa could not quite keep her mind on the lesson at hand. "_How is tonight going to play out?" _she wondered as she tried to take notes. It was evident that Neil was nervous; he was restlessly going over his notes and sneaking glances at the clock as if he could will the hands to go faster. "_Please let it just be about performing later," _Vanessa prayed silently, remembering the harrowing events of the night before.

Towards the end of the class, Mr. Keating dimmed the lights. "Put on your blindfolds, gentlemen, lady," he said. His footsteps were strong and clear as he went over to a record player. Some of the boys muttered as the sound of a flowing classical tune filled the air. Someone tapped his pencil restlessly, only to earn a 'shush!" from his seatmate. Vanessa could hear Neil moving less agitatedly in his seat, his breathing growing softer as he calmed down. The music was light and gentle, so unlike the bleak day outside. "_A bit like New Jersey on a good day," _Vanessa couldn't help thinking, shaking her head at the odd comparison. The piano's melody reminded her of footsteps, of strolling in the sun and taking in the sights around her like she used to. She couldn't help but smile as the music played on, thinking about how nice it would be to return there for a while. Maybe she could bring her friends with her, if they would be allowed to come.

Suddenly the harsh ringing of the school bell cut through the music. Mr. Keating moved from where he was seated to turn on the lights. "Words can never contain as music does, the unsayable grace that cannot be defined. It leaps like light from mind to mind," he said as he went to his desk. "That's it for today class, keep it in there."

Vanessa tore the blindfold from her eyes and squinted at the light. "Thank you Captain," she said. "It sort of brought me home for a while," she explained.

"Glad to hear it," Mr. Keating said approvingly. He looked past her at where Neil was still sitting at his desk. "Mind if I borrow Mr. Perry for a moment there?"

"Alright," Vanessa said, quickly gathering up her things. She motioned for Todd to follow her out of the room. "I think they need to discuss something," she said, seeing his perplexed look.

"What? Oh that," Todd said in an undertone. "What do you think he will do?"

"Mr. Keating, or Neil?"

"No. Neil's father."

Vanessa cringed. "I don't know. It's not as if he's going to come all the way to the play and watch, see if Neil is there or not?" she asked. Then again the man had driven all the way to Welton to confront his son, so maybe this sort of trip wouldn't be completely out of character.

At that moment, Neil exited Mr. Keating's classroom with a wry look on his face. "Finally! I thought the day would never end," he said as he walked briskly to the stairway.

"So you're off to Henley Hall now?" Todd asked, keeping up with Neil.

"Yep," Neil replied, adjusting his hold on his books. "I just have to get my costume upstairs. The show is in four hours, can you believe it?"

"Are you ever going to call your father?" Vanessa asked, walking ahead so that she was in front of him.

Neil shrugged. "I'll call him from Henley Hall, when I've got time."

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "You'd better," she said, though deep down she had the sinking feeling that he would be so caught up in preparing for the play that he would just let the matter slide. "_He's playing with fire," _she thought with a shudder.

"Van?" Neil asked touching her hand.

She looked up at him. "I just hope it goes well for you," she said. Despite her fears, she couldn't help smiling on seeing his enthusiasm; it was definitely contagious. "So what will it be, _Carpe Diem_, or break a leg?"

Neil chuckled, reaching out to pull a stray strand of hair away from her face. "The first one."

"Alright then." She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "You'll be great, I know it."

"I hope so."

"No, I'm sure."

Todd coughed. "Since Van won't say it, break a leg, Neil," he said with a smile.

"Thanks," Neil said gratefully, clapping Todd's shoulder before he hurried upstairs.

Vanessa laughed as she watched him go. If he could bring this much vivacity on stage, the character of Puck wouldn't just come to life, but actually leap off the stage. "Think we'll have a meeting later?" she asked Todd. "I mean just to celebrate."

"Maybe we'll think of something," Todd shrugged. "I have to go to school paper, Van. I'll see you later before the play."

"_And me, elsewhere," _she thought. Perhaps Annie would be out of class already, and she would be able to give her some help with Math. It was an odd feeling not to be writing for the first time in days. As she went to the lounge, she couldn't help but notice the odd quiet in the halls, an uncanny stillness that sent chills under her skin. "_Is something about to happen?" _she wondered as she found a place to sit.

The hours came and went, during which time Annie showed up for a brief lesson. At about six-thirty, Vanessa finally hurried up to her own room to change into something nice for the play. She picked out a soft red dress, a matching scarf, her overcoat, and a pair of black boots. After putting up her hair in a simple braid, she hurried downstairs to wait for her friends and Mr. Keating.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw a girl, about her age, standing in the front hall. This stranger had shoulder-length blonde hair, and an anxious, if not sweet looking face. "_Someone's sister?" _Vanessa wondered as she walked over.

The stranger looked at her and bit her lip momentarily, as if trying to summon the courage to speak. "Excuse me, but have you seen Knox Overstreet?" she asked.

Vanessa paused, realizing now who she was speaking to. "You're Chris."

"How do you know my name?" Chris asked. "You're one of Knox's friends?"

Vanessa nodded. "You can call me Vanessa, or just Van. Knox should be here soon," she said, looking around. What was taking those boys so long anyway?

Chris nodded as she crossed her arms. "Do you know what he did this morning?"

"Yes. How did it..."

"It was embarrassing," Chris replied, biting her lip. "Chet...that's my boyfriend, wanted to come up here and beat him up."

Vanessa winced. "I don't think that would faze Knox very much."

Chris shook her head. "What does he...what does he tell you about me?"

Vanessa took a deep breath, not sure what to say. "That you're beautiful, you're amazing..." she trailed off, noticing now the tell-tale ginger of Cameron's hair and the taller forms of her other friends making their way to the hall. "Maybe he should just tell you himself," she said with a grin.

Knox pushed his way past Charlie and Pitts, both of whom were staring at Chris. "Chris, what are you doing here?"

"Gentlemen, Miss O'Donnell, let's go!" Mr. Keating shouted from outside.

"I'll catch up," Knox mouthed before taking Chris' arm to draw her aside. Vanessa pulled on her overcoat and scarf before grabbing Meeks' arm to drag him out after the others.

Outside the building, Mr. Keating looked through the entire group as they all crammed into his car. "Where's Mr. Overstreet?" he asked.

"There," Cameron said, pointing to where Knox and Chris were still talking.

Mr. Keating rolled down the car window. "Will you be joining us, Mr. Overstreet?" he called to his student.

"Go ahead Captain, I'll walk," Knox replied.

Mr. Keating nodded understandingly before starting the car. "Everyone comfortable there?" he asked the students.

"Yeah. I hope we make it on time," Vanessa said, managing to move so that she wasn't so squashed between Todd and Pitts.

"I hope Neil doesn't get stage fright," Pitts said in a low voice.

"Neil _never _will have fright," Charlie pointed out. "It's not something he knows of, at all."

"_But there are other things he fears," _Vanessa thought as they drove towards Henley Hall.


	25. Chapter 25

_A/N: Never thought I'd get this far into the story. And it just has to involve Neil's POV in this chapter_

**Chapter 25 (Neil): If We Shadows Have Offended**

More than ever, Neil felt his stomach tightening into knots. "_You've gone over the lines before, now you just have to bring them to life," _he told himself as he waited in the backstage. He glanced at the cue scripts tacked to one post there, finding the exact lines that were being said on stage at that moment. "_You still have some time yet," _he thought as he adjusted the spiky crown of twigs he had on his head.

"Nerves?" the director, a sharp looking woman, asked him.

Neil shrugged. "I'll be fine." Even now he still couldn't wrap his head entirely around the events of the past twenty-four hours. "_Mr. Keating and Van aren't going to be happy when I tell them that I didn't really get to sort things out," _he thought guiltily. He didn't want Mr. Keating to know that he was still in quite a bit of trouble, so that was why he had blurted out a whole story about his father being out of town. As for what he'd told Vanessa about calling his father, he simply had no opportunity to do it, even if he could get the courage to pick up the phone.

As he peered out again into the audience, he caught sight of his friends and Mr. Keating seated in one of the middle rows. He felt something drop in his stomach as he saw Vanessa. "_She's so beautiful tonight," _he thought, taking care not to step out too far lest he be seen before his cue. He took a deep breath as he watched Charlie impatiently craning his neck despite Cameron's attempts to calm him down, while the rest of them were following the performance more quietly. They'd seen him this far, and he was going to do his best.

The light, rather haunting tune of a pipe began to play, and Neil crouched down so that he was half-hidden by a piece of scenery. He darted in and out through the fake bushes before stopping to hide behind a tree. He waited for one of the actresses, a girl named Lois, to make her way onto the stage. He then crept up to her and she jumped back, as if surprised.

"_Either I mistake your shape and making quite, Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite Call'd Robin Goodfellow!"_ she cried.

_ "Thou speakest right! I am that merry wanderer of the night!" _Neil answered. The line was like water on his lips and music to his ears; the feel of it was positively exhilarating. "_I jest to Oberon and make him smile. When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile—" _he continued, making a whinny to punctuate his point. In his peripheral vision, he noticed Knox and a girl entering the theater, but he had to remember not to look at them lest he break out of character.

He heard the audience laugh approvingly before he continued: "_Neighing in likeness of a filly foal: And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl, In very likeness of a roasted crab, And when she drinks, against her lips I bob And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale. The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale, Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me; Then slip I from her bum, down topples she!" _he added, falling backwards to demonstrate the prank in question. Even though he had put in a full day at school and had been busy all week, he still felt as if every fiber of his body had come alive.

The spell was still on him even when he had to wait in the wings again for another scene to end and for his cue to emerge. "_I could do this for the rest of my life," _he thought, even as he caught sight of a door opening at the back of the theater. In the dark, he could see that the newcomer was a man of some years and balding. Neil froze as he found himself looking at a rather familiar scowl. "_No way I can hide from Father now," _he realized, feeling cold dread creeping up his spine as he stepped further back into the wings.

"Neil. That's your cue, Neil. Come on, Neil. Here's your crown. Let's go!" the director hissed furtively to him. Neil picked up the crown of brambles and put it on. The exhilaration was dissipating now, but he willed himself to keep focused. "_You're Puck tonight," _he reminded himself as he picked up a leaf and held it up. He stepped over to the two figures 'sleeping' on the stage and made as if to drop dew on them, as part of the 'spell' Oberon had for the characters. All the while he averted his gaze away from the back of the auditorium; a single look or sign from there could undo him.

Yet even so, the play drew to its close, and at last Neil was left standing alone on the stage to give his final monologue. "_Please, can't you see what I see?" _he asked silently as he raised his eyes at last to the man standing at the back of the hall, and began:

"_If we shadows have offended_

_Think but this, and all is mended, _

_That you have but slumber'd here _

_While these visions did appear. _

_And this weak and idle theme, _

_No more yielding but a dream, _

_Gentles, do not reprehend: _

_If you pardon, we will mend: _

_And, as I am an honest Puck, _

_If we have unearned luck _

_Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, _

_We will make amends ere long; _

_Else the Puck a liar call; _

_So, good night unto you all. _

_Give me your hands, if we be friends, _

_And Robin shall restore amends._

He bowed and stepped back as the curtain closed amid the applause from the audience. "Congratulations, Neil!" someone called as the entire group lined up for the curtain call. When the curtain opened again, the audience was already on their feet, applauding even louder. After the cast bowed, someone pushed Neil forward.

"Yawp!" he heard a loud shout from the audience. He grinned as he saw Vanessa standing on tiptoe as she clapped, while Charlie and Todd whistled and the rest of the Dead Poets Society cheered. Mr. Keating was smiling from ear to ear. "_Hope I did you proud, Captain," _Neil thought before stepping back as the curtain closed one last time.

The backstage was abuzz with cheers, whoops, and shouts of congratulations and relief. Even before he could take off his crown, Neil found himself in the middle of a large group hug. In the middle of everything, he saw the director signalling to him. "Neil, your father is here," she said.

"I know," Neil replied, pulling the twigs and branches off his hands and arms. Some of his fellow actors gave him encouraging but sympathetic looks; a number of them knew of his father's disapproval for his being in the play. Neil quickly changed out of his costume and gathered his things. When he stepped out, the theater was empty. His father stood in the aisle with a stern expression on his face.

"Father-" Neil greeted as he stepped off the stage.

"Not a word," Mr. Perry replied curtly, grabbing Neil's arm firmly to lead him out of the theater.

Outside the theater the crowd was still milling about, chatting and mingling as they waited for friends or for their rides home. Neil kept his head bowed as he walked behind his father, but he could not escape the notice of his friends.

"Neil! Neil! You were great!" Charlie shouted, pushing his way over to try to chat up his friend.

"I can't, guys," Neil mumbled, shaking his head. He half-wished though that someone would just pull him out of there, but he could not bring himself to step away from his father's tracks.

"Neil, where are you going?" Todd asked, trying to keep up. "Wait up!"

"Neil, wait!" Vanessa called, reaching for Neil's hand and managing to stop him for a moment. "Please. You were brilliant-you really moved everyone there," she said breathlessly.

"Thank you," Neil said, managing a brief smile. Before he could say anything more to her, Mr. Perry tugged him along and away from the group.

Just before Neil could get into his father's car, Mr. Keating caught up and grabbed Neil by his coat. "Neil, you have the gift. What a performance. You left even me speechless," he said proudly. "You have to stay with-"

At that moment Mr. Perry brusquely stepped between them. "You, get in the car," he snarled at Neil. "Keating, stay away from my son."

"But he was just congratulating-" Vanessa protested.

"Neil! Aw, Mr. Perry, come on!" Charlie shouted as Neil and his father got into the car.

Mr. Keating sighed. "Don't make it worse than it already is," he said softly as Mr. Perry slammed the driver's side door and drove off.

In the front seat, it was all that Neil could do to keep from looking back at the lights of the theater. "_You never saw it, did you?" _he wanted to ask his father. He wrapped his coat more tightly around him, remembering how he'd been the night before when Vanessa had stayed up with him. The silence in the car was so thick that Neil could have sworn it was getting more and more difficult to breathe. As he caught sight of familiar streets, and the snow covered yard of his family's house, he felt a strange sort of emptiness beginning to fill him from his chest. "_As if I've driven away from everything good around me," _he thought as he got out of the car. He looked up and caught sight of his mother watching from the window of his father's study. As usual, she had a cigarette in her hand, which she was twirling nervously between her fingers.

"Don't dawdle," Mr. Perry ordered as he got out of the car.

Neil swallowed hard before trudging into the house. The usually cozy, if not homey feel of the living room was seemingly gone, replaced by an oppressive bleakness. It no longer quite felt like the place Neil returned to during the holidays. As soon as he arrived in his father's study, he took a seat next to the desk. His father remained standing, while his mother paced for a moment before finding another seat near the door.

Mr. Perry's brow was still knotted as he looked at Neil. "We've done our best. I've tried talking sense into you. And yet you still insist on being defiant. Well, we're not going to let you ruin your life. Tomorrow I'm withdrawing you from Welton, and you will go to Braden Military School. You will go to Harvard, and you're going to be a doctor."

Neil felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of him. "But that's ten more years! Father, that's a _lifetime!" _he protested.

"Stop being so dramatic. You make it sound like a prison term," Mr. Perry scolded. "You don't understand Neil. You have opportunities I never even dreamt of when I was your age, and I'm not going to let you waste them just because you want to be rebellious."

"It's not that, Father!" Neil said, getting to his feet. "I know what you're saying, but I cannot go to Harvard. It's not what I want to do!"

"Neil, I've told you so many times, this foolishness, this _acting_ is not going to get you anywhere!" Mr. Perry barked, drawing himself up to his full height. "You've wasted so much of your time over these past few months, and you won't waste more of my time trying to bargain with me."

"You were there. You _saw_ me on stage," Neil replied, trying to keep his tone level though inwardly he knew his voice was on the verge of breaking. "I know I can act. It's not going to be an easy life, but it's what I want to do, and I know I can make it."

"We just want the best for you, Neil. We've been so worried-" Mrs. Perry said.

"You're throwing all your chances away to pursue some silly pipe dream!" Mr. Perry cut in. "I will not have it Neil. Have you anything more to say?"

"_He's never going to listen," _Neil thought dejectedly as he sat down. "No," he whispered.

Mr. Perry nodded. "That's settled then. Well then, let's go to bed."

Neil did not look up as his father walked out of the study. He smiled wanly at his mother. "I was good. I was really good."

Mrs. Perry sighed and nodded. "Come on, time to get some sleep," she murmured.

Neil got up then to pick up the bag he'd left in the hallway before going off to his room. He found a clean pair of pajamas, as well as a bathrobe and a towel in one of his drawers. As he took off his coat and his shoes, he could only think of what his father's words meant. He had never had any great love for Welton Academy itself, but he did not want to trade this place for something even more stifling. "_Then there's Van, Todd, Charlie, Knox, Meeks, Pitts, Cameron, Mr. Keating and everyone else..." _he thought, blinking back tears. Would he even be able to see them again?

The night was cold and not a single soul was on the street. "_No one would hear even if I screamed," _Neil realized as he went to the window. He touched the sill, wondering how it would be to escape into the night for good. If only he could fly and encompass the world the way Robin Goodfelllow was reputed to do. "_Anything, just don't send me into that life!" _he wanted to cry out.

He stepped away from the sill and bowed his head. Any way he looked at it, he could see an abyss opening beneath his feet, and himself falling down, to be swallowed by sleep again. "_To be silent forever, or to be lifeless?" _he thought. He thought of lying back down on his bed but he shuddered at the thought. If he did that and woke the next morning, he would be as good as dead anyway. "_And I cannot wait like what Mr. Keating told me to do. I cannot be as strong as Van and Todd are. I cannot-" _he realized.

As quietly as he could, he left his room and returned to the study. It did not take him long to find the drawer he was looking for; his father had pointed it out to him to locate in case of any emergency. The gun was cold and heavy in his hand as he lifted it out of its box. He cocked the pistol and raised it to his head. Before he could pull the trigger, he heard a footstep from upstairs. "_They'll hear it!" _he realized. There was no way he wanted to be found, not now.

Neil quickly stowed the gun in its box again, then headed to the cellar. He hardly heeded the cold seeping into his feet, not for as long as he had to find a good rope he could use. His hands shook as he found a coil stashed in a corner, and looked up at the rafters just over his head. If he was quick enough, he would be gone before his parents could think of looking for him.

"_I'm sorry Captain. I wish I could see you again, Van. I'm sorry for leaving you behind, Todd," _he thought as he began tying a noose.


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N: And this story is far from over! _

**Chapter 26: (Vanessa) As Onward Stars Silently Aloft**

Back at the theater, it was as if much of the good cheer had also departed along with Neil. "Is it okay if we walk back, Captain?" Charlie asked Mr. Keating anxiously. It no longer seemed as if they would be celebrating Neil's theatrical triumph anytime soon.

Mr. Keating did not say anything for a long moment as he continued to stare after where Neil and his father had gone. "Just stay safe," he said after a while.

Charlie nodded to the group. "Come on, let's go." He noticed Knox and Chris approaching them. "Well look who we have here."

"Behave yourself, Nuwanda," Vanessa warned, elbowing him.

Knox cleared his throat. "Guys, meet Chris Noel. Chris, meet my friends Charlie, Todd, Meeks, Pitts, and Cameron. You've already met Van."

"The name is _Nuwanda," _Charlie corrected.

Chris smiled and nodded cordially to them. "Nice to meet all of you. I'd love to chat but I really should get going."

"I'll walk you home," Knox offered.

"It's quite a long way. Are you sure?"

Knox nodded. "I won't be able to sleep well if I'm not sure you're safe."

Cameron gagged and Meeks and Pitts exchanged long-suffering looks, while Charlie and Todd tried to stifle their giggles. Vanessa merely smiled as she watched Chris loop her arm through Knox's. "_Nice going, Knox," _she thought, adjusting her scarf. "Spoken like a true gentleman," she remarked.

Charlie cleared his throat. "We'll go with you. Can't have Knox losing his way back to Welton."

"I'm not that bad at getting about!" Knox protested.

"_You_ go with them. I'm going right back," Cameron groused.

"We'll go with him. I'm freezing out here," Meeks said while Pitts nodded in silent assent.

"See you later. And uh, stay safe," Todd told them. "Van, what about you?"

"I could use the adventure," Vanessa replied with a shrug. The night was cold, but too beautiful for her to simply sit inside. "_And I can't go to sleep feeling as I do," _she thought. Everything, from Neil's rather obvious failure to sort things out with his father, all the way up to his abrupt departure, was far too disturbing for her liking. After bidding goodnight to Cameron, Meeks, and Pitts, she followed the rest of the group up the street leading to the town proper. Knox and Chris walked ahead, wrapped up in a world of their own. Charlie whistled snatches of tunes as he walked at his own pace, leaving Vanessa and Todd to bring up the rear.

"You think Neil will be okay?" Todd asked after a while as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

"I don't know," Vanessa whispered. She shivered at the memory of the last glance Neil had given her; his eyes had been shell-shocked, nearly empty so to speak. "_Not like when he was crying and just trying to let it all out," _she thought. She would have rather had him in the latter state. She kicked a pebble aside and took a deep breath. "I'm going to ask about him in the morning."

"Don't think his old man would want to have you calling," Charlie warned.

"Well there has to be _some_ way," Todd pointed out. He looked up at the sky and a bemused smile spread across his face. "There aren't that many clouds. It's odd for winter."

"Todd, it's not even the holidays yet," Charlie said. "No one's hanging Christmas decor. It's just this part of the country being cold, as usual."

"I know; I've lived here most of my life. It's just that..." Todd trailed off. "It's as if you could _imagine_ that the play was happening here. Right now, even if it's not Midsummer."

"Whitman would have written about this night," Vanessa said.

_"I wander all night in my vision, Stepping with light feet, swiftly and noiselessly stepping and stopping," _Todd murmured. "It's from one of his poems."

Up ahead, Chris burst out giggling. "Knox! How do you know so much poetry?" she asked.

"I just like it," Knox said sheepishly.

"Which one is your favourite?" she asked.

Knox reddened. "It starts like this:_ I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright,"_

"Who wrote that?"

"Percy Bryce Shelley."

Charlie laughed. "A little cliché, Knoxious."

"I like it. If I hear it again, I'll remember you," Chris said to Knox.

Charlie smirked. "I prefer Dylan Thomas':_ If I were tickled by the rub of love, A rooking girl who stole me for her side, Broke through her straws, breaking my bandaged string,If the red tickle as the cattle calve Still set to scratch a laughter from my lung, I would not fear the apple nor the flood Nor the bad blood of spring." _

"The 'rub of love'? What a way to put it," Todd chuckled.

"Says the one who came up with the sweaty toothed madman," Charlie pointed out.

"I said the first thing that came to mind!"

"Do they always argue like this?" Chris asked Vanessa lightly.

"No. I'm surprised Todd is even joining in," Vanessa replied over the boys' banter. Still the talk was welcome; it made the night seem less fey and that much more charged with magic. She took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp night breeze as it blew over the snow-filled fields and bent branches of the bare trees around them. It seemed as if the world was covered in a veil of cold crystal and ice.

It was nearly ten in the evening by the time they reached Chris' house near the middle of the town. While Knox walked Chris to her door, both of them thanking each other for the evening, the rest of the students hung back. "How long can we stay out?" Todd asked Charlie and Vanessa.

"Curfew is supposed to be at eleven-thirty," Charlie muttered. "Ah well, we can try to climb in through the back door or something. We've been out walking so I don't think anyone will give us much trouble. Just in case, let's find some biscuits to give to the dog."

Vanessa was about to say something to this when the sound of an ambulance's siren cut through the night. Slush splashed everywhere as the ambulance sped down the road. A small car followed in its wake. "That doesn't seem good," she muttered.

Todd ran forward. "That's Mr. Perry's car!"

"Todd's right," Charlie said. "Something's happened. "

"To who?" Knox asked, hurrying up.

"We don't know," Todd replied.

"_Please, please don't let it be Neil," _Vanessa prayed silently even as she followed the boys down the road. She swallowed hard as she saw the ambulance drive up to the hospital emergency room entrance, and Mr. Perry's car parking someplace nearby. She turned away as she saw Mr. Perry and his wife getting out of the car. It only meant one thing.

Todd grabbed on to Vanessa and Charlie. "They're bringing someone out on a stretcher. It's Neil," he said shakily.

Despite all her past foreboding, Vanessa felt as if her legs were taken out from under her. "Oh God," she murmured as she watched Neil's parents hurry into the emergency room, Mr. Perry enquiring loudly from the doctors about what would happen to his son. Nevertheless she walked up to one of the nurses at the door. "Excuse me, but my name is Vanessa O'Donnell. I'm a friend of Neil Perry..." she said, hoping her voice didn't shake.

The nurse nodded. "Sorry you can't see him till the doctors say so."

"I know. But I want to know what happened."

"He was found hanging in his parents' basement," the nurse said in a low voice.

Vanessa paled and felt her stomach lurch. "Just now?" she quavered.

"When else?"

"Is he going to be okay?"

"He's lucky someone found him in time."

Suddenly someone grabbed her shoulder. "You. What are you doing here?" Mr. Perry growled at Vanessa.

"I was just walking by with my friends, and I saw..." Vanessa trailed off. "I have nothing to do with it, I swear."

Mr. Perry unhanded her as Charlie, Todd, and Knox walked up. "You stay away from my son too. I don't know what you did to him, young lady, but I will never forgive you for it," he said bitterly.

"_The only thing I did was not to see what was going on,"_ she thought as she watched Mr. Perry return to the emergency room. She swiped at her eyes before looking at her friends. "Neil tried to kill himself," she said quietly.

"What?" Todd whispered.

Vanessa nodded. "Tried to hang himself," she explained. She shuddered, momentarily imagining Neil's face. It was all she could do not to cry at that moment, thinking that she might never see him again. "He's alive at least. At least. I can't believe it-I just can't."

"This has to be a joke," Knox said.

"It isn't. Neil...he rather would have..." Todd trailed off.

"We have to tell Mr. Keating," Vanessa said. "And the others."

Charlie sighed as he fished in his pocket for quarters.


	27. Chapter 27

_A/N: Sorry for the long interval between updates. Medical school issues. _

_Anyway this will be basically Neil waking up. _

**Chapter 27 (Neil): Vigil Strange I Kept**

"That Mr. Keating is going to pay for what happened to Neil."

"How do you know it was his fault?"

"He was putting ideas in our son's head!"

Amid this tumult of voices, no one quite noticed that in a nearby bed, a certain dark-haired young boy was finally waking up. "_What am I doing here?" _Neil wondered as he blinked up at the gray ceiling of the hospital room. He tried to move his head only to find his movement impeded by a collar around his neck. "_Now why on earth did you do that?" _he berated himself silently, now recalling the events of the previous night.

"Oh thank God, he's awake!" he heard his mother cry out a she rushed to his bedside. "Neil, we've been so worried about you!"

Neil opened his mouth to try to speak, but felt only a grating pain in his throat. "_What's wrong?" _he wondered, panicking as he tried to make the words come out.

"The doctors say you scratched your voice box. It's temporary, they hope," his father said seriously. "You're lucky to be alive, Neil. If we hadn't found you in time-"

"Oh Tom, don't talk about it anymore," Mrs. Perry said. She stroked Neil's hair. "You'll be fine in a few days. Just rest now."

"_What's going to happen? Are you still going to pull me out of Welton? Can't I just talk to you, Father?" _Neil wanted to say as he looked at his other parent. However Mr. Perry just shook his head and strode out of the room. Neil bit his lip and lay back on the pillow, trying not to cry even as he half-listened to his mother fussing over him. After a while, even Mrs. Perry quit the room to smoke a cigarette, leaving Neil to his thoughts.

His mind quickly went to the events of the past few days: being found out, his triumph on stage, and of course what had happened in the basement. "_I wonder if everyone at Welton already knows," _he thought miserably. It wouldn't take long for the news to get out, and he was sure he had some pretty impressive marks on his neck from where the rope slipped. He could only imagine what his friends would say, if and when they came to see him. "_And what am I going to do after?" _he asked himself. Going back to Welton might not be in the cards; even if he wasn't going to be pulled out, he wasn't sure if he could face the shame of his botched suicide. "_I have to run," _he realized.

Before he could contemplate places and addresses, a knock sounded on the door. "Hi Neil," Vanessa said as she pushed the door open.

Neil sat up in bed. "Can't-" he managed to croak out.

"Talk, yeah. We just wanted to see you," Todd chimed in as he entered the room after Vanessa. Both of them were dressed in long coats over their Welton uniforms. "We were so scared."

"We saw you getting rushed to the hospital," Vanessa explained. She had a bulging bag with her, which she immediately set down on a chair. "Of course we couldn't see you right away, so we just waited for your parents to step out."

Neil couldn't help but grin at this cheeky reply. He mimed writing on a paper, and immediately Todd handed a notebook and pencil to him. "How's everyone?" he wrote.

"Well, good news first. Knox got to see Chris. When we left he was on the phone with her," Todd said, returning Neil's grin.

Neil wrote back. "What else?"

"Shocked and all asking about you. Mr. Nolan is um...investigating," Todd replied. "T-they're saying that it's Mr. Keating's fault. Of course it isn't but you know-"

Neil paled, realizing now what was going on. "They can't-" he tried to say.

Vanessa hushed him with a finger on his lips. "You know how they are. Neil..." she trailed off, as if trying to keep her composure. "He, I mean, Mr. Keating isn't mad at you. He told us to tell you he's alright, he's congratulating you for the play, and he hopes to see you soon in his class."

"But..." Neil began before the pain in his throat started again. He picked up the pencil and paper and wrote. "Someone has to tell the truth. It was me. Not his fault. I wanted to act."

Todd gestured to the bag Vanessa had brought. "That's why we brought your typewriter."

Vanessa sighed and reached for Neil's hand. "You're the one who knows what happened. I'm sorry and I know it's a horrible time to ask you to do this, but you can tell Mr. Nolan somehow what happened. It might help," she murmured. "But only if you're ready to. Don't rush yourself."

"_It's the least I could do," _Neil thought, motioning for Vanessa to bring the typewriter over. If he couldn't get himself out of his own mess, he could at least try to do something right for a person who'd just tried to help him. "Tell him I'm sorry," he wrote on the paper.

"He already knows," Todd said. He gestured to the clock. "I should be getting back for extracurriculars. Van-"

"I'll stay," Vanessa said. "I can get back by myself, Todd."

"Maybe the others can come and visit soon?" Todd asked hopefully.

Neil smiled. "I'd like that," he croaked out.

After Todd left, Vanessa moved her chair closer to the bed. "So...why?" she asked quietly.

Neil took as deep a breath as his throat could allow. "You know."

Vanessa bit her lip. "You won't have to live with them forever."

The boy cringed as he wrote back, "They were going to pull me out of Welton."

Vanessa' jaw dropped in shock. "And send you where?"

"Military school," Neil scrawled.

Vanessa shut her eyes and held his hand more tightly. "You wouldn't have lasted there. They could make you do it...but no. You wouldn't have stayed, you would have found a way...if you didn't break first."

"Nearly did," he whispered, ignoring the pain in his throat.

She nodded. "I think...now that you've come so close, now that your parents know they could lose you, they might actually listen."

"You can't ask me to try again!" he wrote furiously.

"Is there any other way to keep fighting?" she asked. "I don't even know if telling the truth would help at this point. But it's the only way left to try to set things right."

"_Fix this now, worry about the rest later," _Neil decided. At any rate it did not seem as if his parents were in any hurry to make decisions. "Paper?" he asked.

"Brought some," Vanessa said, depositing the typewriter on his lap and helping him balance it. She brought a few sheets of stationery out, obviously nicked from someone's desk. "You sure? Right now?"

"Mr. Nolan acts fast," Neil wrote on the notebook. He put a single sheet in the typewriter and placed his fingers on the keys. "_Here it goes," _he told himself, willing himself to strike the 'M' key. The words came quickly to him as he set out what explanation he could. "_Will I be believed?" _he wondered as he reached the end of the missive. He pulled out the letter to sign his name. "Thank you," he whispered, feeling a little drained from this effort.

"No, thank you," Vanessa said, kissing his cheek. "I'll give the letter right when I get back."

Neil took a deep breath. "Are you mad at me?" he blurted out.

She smiled wanly. "No, not really. I can't understand completely why you did it, but I'm not angry with you." She turned as a sound came from the hallway. "I have to go before your parents get back. Which could be any time."

"Will I see you again?" he asked, catching her hand.

She nodded. "I'll come by tomorrow, or the day after. Get well soon," she whispered before hurrying out of the room.

Neil quickly shoved his typewriter to the foot of the bed and threw a blanket over it moments before his father came in. "I heard the door shut," Mr. Perry said gruffly.

"It was just-" Neil began before swallowing hard as if he was in pain. "_This will be the last lie I tell him," _he decided. "It was a nurse," he finished.

"That's odd," Mr. Perry said, shrugging as he sat down at the end of the room to work on a crossword puzzle.


	28. Chapter 28

_A/N: Finally got a break from medical school to update more of this. Long update though! Sorry for the long hiatuses. Charlie and Vanessa will cuss a bit in this chapter. This chapter will not be the last. _

**Chapter 28 (Vanessa): Oh Captain, My Captain**

Despite the snowy day, Vanessa could feel fire in her veins as she pedalled back to Welton. "_Once they read Neil's letter, they should reconsider what they want to do to Mr. Keating," _she thought as she quickly stowed her bike back on the rack. She fished Neil's letter out of her coat as she hurried up to Mr. Nolan's office, not caring who saw her. However just as she got to the last landing, she caught sight of a familiar redhead further up on the stairway.

"Cameron! I just got to talk to Neil-" she called enthusiastically. She stopped in her tracks when he turned to face her with an impassive smile on his face. "What's wrong?"

"I have to talk to Mr. Nolan," Cameron said slowly. "This business with Mr. Keating and the Dead Poets has gone too far."

"What, you're going to snitch and sell us out? You're one of us, Cameron!" Vanessa hissed, running up to grab his arm.

"I'm saving us."

"At least let Mr. Nolan read Neil's letter. He deserves a right to explain what happened."

Cameron snorted as he shook himself free from her grip. "Neil is so besotted by Mr. Keating, he'd do anything to defend him."

"It's not just about Mr. Keating, damn you!" Vanessa shouted just as the door to Mr. Nolan's office swung open.

"What is going on here?" Hager demanded.

Vanessa pushed her way forward. "I have a letter from Neil Perry. Mr. Nolan has to read it _right away_. Please, Mr. Hager," she pleaded.

Hager's brow was knotted as he took the missive from Vanessa. "And what is the matter with you, Mr. Cameron?" he asked.

Cameron straightened up. "I need to speak with Mr. Nolan."

Hager nodded. "Right this way then. Make it quick though."

"After him, may I-" Vanessa cut in.

"He has a meeting to attend young lady," Hager said gruffly before shutting the door.

"Sir, he has to read the letter first!" Vanessa called. She swallowed hard, knowing that Hager hadn't heard her. "_I have to warn the others," _she thought, heading up to the attic where they'd agreed to meet for that day.

Despite the dust and cobwebs, she had to fight hard not to wheeze or cough as she searched the space. At last she heard the low murmurs of some voices coming from a nook. "It's just me, Van," she said as she slipped in.

"Did you give the letter? "Todd asked eagerly.

"Cameron got there first," Vanessa said as she sat down. Pitts offered her a cigarette, but she waved it off. "He's finking right now, even as we speak," she murmured.

The other boys exchanged astonished looks. "That dirty little rat!" Charlie hissed.

"He's finking about what?" Pitts asked.

"The club, Pittsie. Think about it. The board of directors, the trustees and Mr. Nolan. Do you think for one moment they're gonna let this thing just blow over? Schools go down because of things like this. They need a scapegoat," Charlie replied darkly.

"But if Neil wrote a letter, won't Mr. Nolan believe him?" Meeks pointed out.

"Maybe, just maybe. But you know Mr. Perry will just say that Neil is out of his mind and he's deluded..." Knox said. He shook his head and leaned back against an old trunk. "We're fried."

"We're not going to be expelled, right?" Todd chimed in. "I mean, just for gathering and going off campus bounds every now and then...it's not so bad right?"

"Goddammit Todd, it's like you don't know the first thing about Welton!" Charlie retorted. "You, Knox, Meeks, Pitts, and of course Cameron will be fine. As for me and Van, I don't think so."

Vanessa dusted off her skirt and looked at her friends. "I don't care if they expel me. It's been long in coming, since I wrote that article and all. I just don't want Mr. Keating to leave because of this...because of Neil not telling his father what was really going on," she murmured.

For a long time no one said anything, and the only sounds that pierced the quiet were that of Charlie lighting up his cigarettes and the occasional cough from the other members of the group. At length another step sounded in the attic. "You've got a lot of guts coming here after what you did," Charlie shouted.

"What did I do?" Cameron asked mildly as he came forward.

"You told Nolan everything," Vanessa seethed. "And don't you dare deny it!"

"It's part of the honor code, Vanessa," Cameron sneered. "If a teacher asks you a question, you answer or you're expelled."

"Nolan didn't ask-" Vanessa began but at that moment Charlie lunged forward and had to be held back by Knox and Todd.

"Charlie, he's not worth it," Knox said frantically. "You touch him, you're out!"

"He's a rat! He's in it up to his eyes, so he ratted to save himself!" Charlie roared. "And I'm out anyway!"

"You don't know that," Pitts chimed in.

"He's right there. If you guys are smart, you will do exactly what I did and cooperate. They're not after us. We're the victims here, us and Neil," Cameron said.

"Don't you dare drag Neil into this!" Vanessa snapped. "He wrote a letter, explaining what really happened out there."

"You think that's going to matter?" Cameron shot back. "Even then, someone is going to be held responsible for this."

"And who?" Charlie hissed.

"Why, Mr. Keating himself, the Captain of course!" Cameron exclaimed. "Do you think he could just get out of this without any responsibility?"

"Mr. Keating, responsible for Neil?" Charlie repeated. "Is that what they're saying?"

"Well what else, dumb ass? If Mr. Keating hadn't put us up to this, Neil would be cozied up in his room now, studying Chemistry and dreaming of being called doctor," Cameron retorted.

"That's not true. You know that. Mr. Keating didn't put us up to this, and Neil loved acting!" Todd chimed in, his voice free of a stutter for once.

"Believe what you want, but I say let Keating fry. Why ruin our lives?"

It was the last straw. In the blink of an eye, Charlie shook himself free and landed a punch on Cameron's face. The smaller boy fell back, clutching a bloody nose. Despite this, the redhead's face was twisted in a sneer. "You just signed your expulsion papers, Nuwanda." He looked at the rest of the group. "And if the rest of you are smart, you will do exactly what I did. You can't save Keating, but you can save yourselves"

"You're going to lose," Vanessa spat. "Somehow, some way, the truth will come out. Neil will come back. He'll set this straight."

"You don't know that."

"You don't know Neil like we do."

Cameron gave her a disgusted look. "It does not matter," he said before leaving the nook.

Vanessa moved as if to follow him but Todd grabbed her shoulder. "We can't talk to him. It's not going to change him," he said.

"I'd love to wring his filthy neck," Vanessa seethed.

"But what are we going to do now?" Meeks asked. "I mean they are going to ask us and what are we going to say?"

"We can't dig ourselves into a deeper hole-" Knox began before another step sounded in the attic. "Maybe we should go?"

Charlie nodded. "We've already said what we can say to him," he said before they waited for the steps to fade, and then quit the attic one by one.

When Vanessa got downstairs, she found the girls' dormitory all abuzz with chatter. "What's going on?" she asked Annie.

"Talk," Annie said. "That friend of yours, Neil Perry, he tried to kill himself, didn't he?"

Vanessa shrugged non-committantly. "And then?"

"They're blaming Mr. Keating, the new English teacher for it."

"How on earth did you know?"

"Well the teachers are all talking about it," Annie said. "It is true, isn't it? And you know something?" she asked seriously.

"A little of it. But it's not true, it's not Mr. Keating's fault," Vanessa replied, fighting to keep her voice steady.

"What if they call you over?" Annie asked.

"Well I'll tell them exactly what happened," Vanessa said. "_Consequences be damned." _

The summons for Vanessa did not come till the next afternoon, a Saturday. Since it was cold outside, all outdoor activities had been cancelled, and all the students were busy studying in their rooms or the common study areas. All day, Vanessa could hear trudging in the hall, punctuated by Hager's bellowing one by one for each member of the Dead Poets Society. Even though she holed up in the furthest corner of her room, huddled under the blankets, she could not quite drown out the sound.

At last, the knock sounded on her door. "Miss O'Donnell!"

Vanessa got to her feet and took a deep breath to calm herself. She smoothed out her rumpled blouse and skirt, and slipped on a dark blue blazer. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, making her pale face seem even more severe in her now foggy mirror. "Yes, I'm ready," she said before stepping out of the room.

Hager nodded diffidently. "Don't dawdle, Miss O'Donnell."

"Did Mr. Nolan read my letter?" she asked.

"He received it," Hager replied in a tone that made it clear that Vanessa was not to ask any more questions.

"_I will tell them what happened when I talked to Neil. I will tell them what he told me, everything..." _she repeated to herself, over and over. It would in effect betray the fact that she and Neil were somewhat more than friends, but it was a small revelation to risk in light of what she hoped to gain. However the words were stolen from her lips the moment she saw who else was in the office with Mr. Nolan.

"Sit down, Vanessa," Mr. Peter Huntington ordered his stepdaughter. Nearby, Vanessa's mother was sitting silently, clutching a crumpled handkerchief as she regarded Vanessa.

"What are you doing here?" Vanessa managed to say, feeling a cold dread now in her gut.

"Sit down," Mr. Nolan repeated. He picked up a document from his desk. "You do admit to being part of this...Dead Poets Society?"

"Yes Sir," Vanessa replied, willing herself to keep her back straight in her chair.

"I have here with me a detailed description of what occurred at your meetings. It describes how Mr. Keating encouraged you to organize this club to engage in reckless, self-indulgent, and licentious behaviour. And in your case too, Miss O'Donnell, behaviour that goes against the mores of this school." His eyes narrowed with the last part of this statement. "It also describes how Mr. Keating, both in and out of the classroom, encouraged Neil Perry to pursue his obsession with acting although he knew it was explicitly against the orders of Neil's parents. It was Mr. Keating's abuse of his position as a teacher that led directly to Neil Perry's suicide attempt. Have you anything to add or amend to this?"

"Amend, yes," Vanessa said, finding her voice at last. "Mr. Keating told us a little about the club but he did not encourage us outright to organize it. And he didn't know till what, _days_ ago about the situation with Neil and his father."

"Sign the paper, Vanessa," Mr. Huntington said, his voice coming out strained and terse.

"I can't, it's not correct, none of it is," Vanessa shot back. She looked Mr. Nolan in the eye. "Mr. Nolan, yesterday before Mr. Cameron came in, I brought a letter here from Neil Perry himself. I was there when he wrote it. He explained his side of the story-"

"Which was taken into consideration already. And since Mr. Keating has not done anything to discourage Mr. Perry from pursuing his reckless plans of acting, he is still culpable for this," Mr. Nolan said harshly. "The same goes for your reckless publications and Mr. Dalton's misdemeanors."

"No."

"Vanessa please. If you don't sign it, you'll be out of this school!" her mother wailed.

"I won't!"

Mr. Huntington grabbed Vanessa wrist and forced a pen into her hand. "For God's sake, will you be obedient for once?" he hissed. "Now sign the paper!"

Even through the tears that threatened to blur her vision, Vanessa could see that all her friends except for Todd had signed the affidavit. "_And if Todd's parents show up too, he won't be able to fight either," _she realized, feeling the tip of the pen meeting the paper and her hand scratching out the strokes. At length she felt her stepfather's grip on her arm loosen, at the same moment she heard her mother's sigh of relief.

"You may go now," Mr. Nolan said, his grim face showing a vague hint of satisfaction, clearly from being one step closer to concluding this business.

Vanessa got to her feet. "Thank you," she found herself saying mechanically.

"Vanessa, let's talk. I've been so worried about you and your brother-" her mother said.

"I have to study, Mom," Vanessa gasped, bolting from the office. Her head was a whirl as she locked herself in her room, and she could not bring herself to even look at her books. Apologies, curses and threats whirled in her mind, keeping her effectively riveted to her bed. All she could think of was how Mr. Keating, and then perhaps Neil, would react to this turn of events. She vaguely heard Hager call for Todd, and then after what seemed forever, Todd's tired tread back in the seniors' hallway. Aside from this, she was cognizant of little else. "_Like the chill has set in," _she thought as she curled in further into her blankets.

The stupor persisted till the next Monday, when classes resumed. Although Vanessa knew that she and her friends had all done the same thing, it was difficult for all of them to meet each other's eyes. The silence was deafening, more so now that Charlie was expelled.

When English class rolled around, Vanessa moved to open her desk, if only to find something to distract herself with. However she saw Mr. Nolan enter the room, and she abandoned her search.

"I will be teaching this class through exams. We'll find a permanent English teacher during the break," Mr. Nolan announced before proceeding to interrogate the class as to their progress in the Pritchard textbook.

"_Hah, is that how you judge how much we're learning?" _Vanessa asked, biting her lip. She heard Cameron replying to Mr. Nolan's inquiries, then his voice reading out the introduction in the headmaster's unexpurgated copy of the textbook. In the middle of the opening paragraph, the classroom door swung open.

Mr. Nolan's eyes were cold. "Mr. Keating."

"Excuse me. I came back for my personals," the teacher said calmly. "Should I come back after class?"

"Get them now Mr. Keating," Mr. Nolan ordered.

Vanessa looked down at her desk as Cameron continued reading the introduction. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a flicker of motion from Todd's desk, as if her friend was acknowledging their former teacher. Yet all was still silent apart from Cameron's recitation, till Todd suddenly stood up from his chair.

"Mr. Keating, they made everyone sign it!" Todd blurted out. "You've got to believe me, it's true."

"I do believe you, Todd," Mr. Keating said, his voice free of any vitriol or hurt.

"Leave, Mr. Keating," Mr. Nolan barked.

"But it's wasn't his fault!" Todd continued more loudly.

"Leave, Mr. Keating," Mr. Nolan said to the departing teacher. He glared at Todd. "Sit down, Mr. Anderson. One more outburst from you or anyone, and you're out of this school."

Vanessa saw Mr. Keating hesitate, as if he was going to speak up. "_Captain, please stay..." _she desperately wanted to say, but Mr. Nolan's very presence was like a gag.

"I said leave, Mr. Keating," Mr. Nolan repeated, his tone now pure ice. Just at that moment, two loud thuds were heard, the sound of two feet standing on a desk.

"O Captain! My captain!" Todd's voice rang out.

Mr. Nolan wheeled on him in rage. "Sit down, Mr. Anderson!" he yelled at the boy who continued to stand resolutely on his desk despite the shocked stares of some of his classmates. "I said sit down! This is your final warning Anderson! How dare you-"

"Oh Captain! My Captain!" Knox said as he climbed on his desk.

"Mr. Overstreet! I warn you-"

It was now or never, even if her voice would likely be cracked with disuse. Vanessa took a deep breath and then quickly stepped up onto her desk. "O Captain, my Captain!" she said as loudly as she could.

"Miss O'Donnell, sit down this instant-" Mr. Nolan shouted just as Pitts, and then another student, and then Meeks climbed on their desks. "Leave, Mr. Keating! All of you, I want you seated!" Yet Mr. Keating still stood at the doorway as one by one, more students got on their desks. Even the usually flippant and defiant Hopkins eventually climbed up on his desk and gave a nod of acknowledgement to Mr. Keating.

Mr. Keating's eyes were filled with amazement as he regarded his former class. "Thank you boys," he said. He nodded to Vanessa, and she knew then that he did not mean any slight to her with these words. "Thank you."

As Mr. Keating walked out the door for one last time, Mr. Nolan stared at the students, his face twisted with rage, but with just the barest flicker of confusion. "Mr. Anderson, Mr. Overstreet, Miss O'Donnell, my office _immediately_!" he roared.


	29. Chapter 29

_A/N: Another update. I will finish this fic somehow, by hook or by crook._

**Chapter 29 (Neil): There Was a Child Who Went Forth**

If there was one thing that Neil detested about being hospitalized, it was the lack of company, or at the very least, people he wished to talk to. "_I'd take even Chemistry class over this," _he thought as he watched yet another group of doctors and medical students leave his room. All day he'd had to play the unwilling host to people who would ask (and forget that he was still having difficulty with speaking) about how he was doing, while they checked his vital signs or poked and prodded him in various places. In a way, the experience was exhausting even if he did not leave his bed.

Just when he closed his eyes to get a few moments of rest, he heard the door open again. "Neil, I know you're awake," his father said.

Neil opened his eyes and managed a smile. "Uh...hello Father," he managed to say. "_Shouldn't he be at work?" _he wondered as he sat up. This was not the only unusual thing about Mr. Perry; it suddenly seemed as if he had been robbed of his usual harsh, business-like manner, and he had taken on an attitude of rather grave contemplation.

The older man pulled up a chair and sat down heavily. "You're lucky to be alive, Neil. I don't know how..._why_ you had to do that, to frighten me and your mother. But I'm not going to let you do that, not anymore," he said.

"What do you mean?" Neil asked fearfully. "After I get out of the hospital-"

"You're going back to Welton," Mr. Perry said. "That Mr. Keating has left the school."

Neil's jaw dropped with dismay. "But-"

"It's better that way," Mr. Perry muttered. "You'll be away from his influence. I heard that the girl, Miss O'Donnell was also expelled."

"He did not put me up to it. Nor did Vanessa," Neil finally said firmly. "It was all my doing."

Mr. Perry looked at him as if he had just said something like pigs having wings. "Your doing?"

"Father, you know I've wanted to act for the longest time, to do something else, to _not_ be a doctor," Neil said. Oddly enough his throat was hurting less. "I tried to go to summer stock auditions, you wouldn't let me. And the time before that, and the time before that. I know it was rather wrong of me to go behind your back about the play, but it was the only thing I could think of doing if I wanted to really give it a try. And it was Mr. Keating who told me I had to set things right with you. Vanessa too...she was the one who tried really hard. So it wasn't their faults, not at all."

Mr. Perry's eyes narrowed, as if he was trying to figure out how to say something. "I talked to Mr. Nolan and I found that you did submit your application to Harvard..."

"Because you wanted me to-" Neil cut in.

"Don't interrupt me," Mr. Perry said exasperatedly. "But I also learned of the applications you submitted to other universities, for their _arts_ programs." He looked Neil in the eye. "If you insist on going for those programs, I'm not paying for those. I will not be party to your stubbornness."

"I can get scholarships," Neil replied. He swallowed again to banish the slight pain welling up in his throat. "Even if I have to work while I study, I will do it."

"It's not going to be an easy life, Neil, you have to focus on your studies!"

"I can do it."

Mr. Perry rubbed his temples. "Fine. Have it that way. But if it falls through, you'll know that I told you so." It was clear that the old man was quite shaken from recent events, and he was not as eager anymore to exercise some of his usual harshness.

Neil sighed with relief. "Thank you."

"Don't make me regret this or break your mother's heart," Mr. Perry cautioned before quitting the room.

Neil could do nothing else but stare at the ceiling, trying to make sense of what had just happened. "_He might give me a chance!" _he realized, feeling something light for once come into his being. Yet what good cheer he could have had was dampened by the knowledge that his favourite teacher was now out of a job, and that his best friend-almost-girlfriend was expelled from school. "_I don't know if they can ever forgive me_," he thought despondently.

At that moment the door opened a crack. "Neil?" Vanessa greeted tentatively.

The very sound of her voice was like a jolt. "Van! What are you doing here?" Neil asked.

"Saying goodbye," Vanessa replied, slipping into the room. She was dressed in a heavy winter coat, a hat, a muffler, mittens, and boots, and she carried a rather large, bulging bag. "I may as well tell you. I got expelled from Welton. Charlie too. Knox and Todd got suspended."

"What?"

"Charlie refused to sell you out, and he decked Cameron. That's why he's out. Then we were all forced to sign this document..." Vanessa trailed off and shook her head. "They sort of twisted everything around, even what you wrote. Damn Cameron. He snitched and it all went wrong."

Neil winced, though he inwardly was not surprised at all by what Cameron did. "But the rest of you?" he asked, reaching for Vanessa's hand.

"Literally standing up for Mr. Keating. I think Mr. Anderson and Mr. Overstreet got to talk to Mr. Nolan not to expel Todd and Knox just yet. But you know, Welton's had it with me so not even my stepdad can keep me in," Vanessa explained. She squeezed Neil's hand tightly. "It's really better this way. The only things I don't regret about Welton are Mr. Keating's class, and the Dead Poets Society. You most especially."

"So where are you going now?" Neil asked. "Your parents will put you in another school now?"

"No, Neil. I'm going to New York. Chris Noel has a friend there, she gave me a number to call," Vanessa said, not hiding her grin. "Like hell I'm going to another boarding school."

It dawned on Neil what Vanessa was doing. "But it's dangerous..."

"Better than some alternatives," Vanessa said. She brought a folded piece of paper out of her pocket. "I got this from Mr. Keating. You have to talk to him when you're ready. And Charlie said he'll try to contact you as soon as he's settled in another school."

Neil quickly hid the list of numbers and addresses Vanessa handed to him. "But you?"

"I'll find some way to contact you, I promise," she said as she sat on his bed.

"It's not certain yet, but maybe my parents might let me go up to New York. On my own effort of course," Neil confided.

"I can imagine. I get the feeling that Charlie and Todd might follow someday. What a riot that will be," Vanessa laughed. She looked Neil in the face. "It will come alright, I know it. I really wish I didn't have to leave you, I mean since I love you and all..."

"You what?" Neil asked incredulously, wondering if he heard her properly.

"I love you." Vanessa repeated. "I can't leave without telling you that."

"_Did she really say it?" _Neil wondered incredulously, but he still could not deny that he felt more than happy to hear it. Despite the fact that one hand of his was still hooked to an IV, Neil managed to pull her close for a kiss. "I love you too, Van," he said in her ear. "I just wish-"

"That we had time at Welton together? Don't think that would have happened, not with everyone saying things and our parents being what they are," Vanessa replied wryly as she ran her fingers through his hair. "Find me in New York, Neil."

"I promise."

Vanessa smiled as she held his hand. "I have a bus to catch. See you soon," she said before slipping off his bed, grabbing her bag and heading out the door.

"_She never really said goodbye," _Neil realized as he watched her go. It would be a long winter now.


	30. Chapter 30

_A/N: Just a few more chapters to go for this story. A short chapter. _

**Chapter 30 (Vanessa): Song of the Open Road**

"If we didn't know better, we'd think you were planning this for a long time,"

Vanessa only shrugged as she tightened her fist around her bus ticket. "No, but it was inevitable. Maybe I was not really meant to graduate from Welton."

Charlie only snorted by way of reply, while Meeks and Pitts merely shrugged. The teens were the only ones waiting at the bus stop at the edge of town, so they did not bother muffling their voices or guarding their conversation. "So what's it going to be next? Are we going to see your name in print soon?" Charlie asked.

"Maybe, if I get lucky. It will take time to prove myself to newspapers or whoever will have me," Vanessa said. Even now she could feel the weight of her notebooks in her bag; she would have gladly left these behind had it not been for the fact that she needed her essays and articles to get a job. The girl wrapped her coat more tightly around herself. "I hope I don't end up sleeping on a park bench in this kind of weather."

"I thought Chris had a friend," Meeks pointed out.

"Yeah, but I don't want to rely on people for too long," Vanessa said. She bit her lip as she watched a car go by. "Neil is going back to Welton. Could you two keep an eye on him?" she asked Meeks and Pitts.

"Of course," Meeks said. "But I think Knox and Todd will also help. "

"Naturally," Vanessa agreed. Had it not been for being confined to the dormitory thanks to their suspension, Knox and Todd would probably also have been at the bus station to see her off. "And Meeks, there's a girl named Annie who's in the third year. She wants to get better grades at Math and be an engineer. Could you please take care of her too?"

Meek nodded affably. "You were helping her?"

"I tried. And thanks too in advance," Vanessa said wryly. "Nuwanda, please don't get into any more trouble. I want to see you in college soon or playing someplace in New York," she added, punching Charlie's arm.

"Making plans already? What about Neil?" Charlie asked.

"He'll follow," Vanessa replied confidently. As shaky as their plans were at the moment, she was certain that somehow, some way things would finally go in their favour. She sighed as she saw the bus turning a corner. "So here it goes," she whispered. "I'll contact you all soon. And Mr. Keating too."

"We'll miss you," Pitts finally said.

"Same here," Vanessa murmured before pulling in her friends for a hug just as the bus pulled up to the stop. It was all she could do not to tear up as she found a window seat on the bus. "_Don't look back, don't look back," _she repeated to herself, but she still could not help but press her face to the glass to catch a last glimpse of her friends as the bus lurched away from the curb.

"Leaving family behind, young lady?" an old woman asked kindly.

Vanessa nodded. "_It's true twice over," _she thought as she swiped her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket. There was no note, no clue she'd left for her parents to find her. "_Sorry Mom. I know you love me, but sometimes love isn't enough, "_ she thought. Perhaps that would be the only thing she'd really regret; not telling her mother goodbye.

The girl sighed as she thought back on the others who would be affected by her disappearance. She had made sure not to even tell her brother of her plans; it was likely that he would be among the first persons to be called in for questioning about her whereabouts.. It would do no good to incriminate him. "_Same goes for Annie, or Mr. Keating, or just anyone outside the Dead Poets," _she mused. Her only hope was that her friends would keep her secret, at least till her parents would stop searching for her.

"_Can you really handle being alone?" _she wondered as she regarded the other passengers on the bus. Many of them were older than she was, and looked more worn and bitten by the winter. Perhaps in a few weeks her face would wear an expression that was just as grim. She curled up further in her seat as she thought back on Neil, and the last few conversations she'd had with him. She would definitely remember that one night she'd fallen asleep in his bed. "_Everyone else will be warm. Unhappy and tired maybe, but warm," _she realized.

Yet even as the bus continued to head south, Vanessa found that she could begin to dream. For a while, the going would be hard; she would probably be sleeping on the floor of whatever accommodations Chris' friend could get her. However once she found a job, she could begin editing her pieces and writing up new ones. "_I will clip my first article and send it to Mr. Keating," _she thought. After that, the possibilities were endless. "_Maybe Neil and I can get a place together. I'll definitely see his debut on Broadway. Maybe Charlie and Todd can come too and we'll all be together..." _

In her reverie, she almost did not notice the hand dipping into her coat pocket. She quickly wheeled around to catch the thief. "What on earth do you think you're doing?" she screeched, trying to wrest back her wallet. The would-be robber shoved her backwards before sprinting down the aisle.  
"Stop!" she shouted, trying to go after the robber, but he soon leapt off the still-moving bus.

"Eh miss, he dropped some of these," a gentleman said, handing her a few dollar bills and coins that had slipped out of her wallet.

"Thank you," Vanessa said shakily as she returned to her seat. A quick search of her bag yielded only a little more money, coming up to a total of forty dollars. "_I'm going to have to work fast or start selling things if I want to live," _she thought despondently as she surveyed the clothes and other items she'd brought. All the rest of the trip, she kept her bag on her lap and looped the straps around her arm, determined not to lose anything else.


	31. Chapter 31

_A/N:A very overwhelming chapter since I don't think many fics go down this route, in much detail. In which I make Neil face the one thing he may fear most at this point: _

**Chapter 31 (Neil): Life**

Even though the rope marks on his neck were almost faded, Neil still wore a scarf as he headed back to Welton. "_It's the coldest winter I remember anyway," _he thought as he watched his parents speaking to Mr. Nolan in his office.

"Rest assured, there will not be any trouble from my son," Mr. Perry said to Mr. Nolan. "Now that Mr. Keating is gone, things can get back to as they should be."

"Back to business as usual, I see," Mr. Nolan said, shaking Mr. Perry's hand. He nodded to Neil. "We're glad to have you with us again, Mr. Perry. Your schedule will be the same as it was before you left. All except for English; I'm teaching that class through exams so much of the time is devoted to self-study. I have already posted a schedule for the exams I will be giving up till the winter break. "

Neil managed a nod at this. "It's great to be back again, Sir," he managed to say. "_You didn't think it was going to end up like this," _he berated himself silently as the adults continued to talk. Not only was Mr. Keating gone, but now his class was condemned to endure the most torturous and boring, albeit temporary, form of instruction. He swallowed hard as he listened to his parents bidding goodbye to Mr. Nolan. His father was wrong; things were not normal at all.

"It is going to be all right, Neil. No more foolishness," Mr. Perry said seriously to his son as they all left Mr. Nolan's office.

"Straight A's again, Sir," Neil said, for once not affecting a grin or anything by way of agreement. "_Because I will need the A's if I want to get a scholarship or some aid to get to New York," _he decided. In a way, he knew it was quiet defiance, and it was oddly satisfying.

Mr. Perry sighed deeply. "We'll discuss your college options over the winter break. Till then, we're counting on you."

Mrs. Perry hugged Neil. "You stay safe, please," she whispered as she stepped back.

"I will, Mom," Neil said. He quickly grabbed his luggage and hurried up to the dormitory, not even waiting for his parents to step out the door. The place was busy, owing to the fact that everyone was still rushing about to get ready for the day. As he walked, some of the boys such as Spaz and Priske, greeted him cordially, while others like Hopkins were a little more distant. "_Everyone knows what you tried to do, so don't hide it," _Neil thought as he returned each greeting, all the way till he reached the door of his room.

"Todd, it's me!" he called as he opened the door.

Todd, who had been in the middle of combing his hair, nearly jumped at the sound of Neil's voice. "Neil! I was wondering when you'd be back," he greeted, unexpectedly giving Neil a hug.

"It took me long enough," Neil said, clapping Todd's back. "But I heard-"

"Knox and I got suspended. Yeah. I don't regret it," Todd said as he continued combing his hair. His voice was stronger, with a clarity and power that had not been there before, or perhaps it had always been there but all too easily choked by the clamor around him.

"Vanessa said something about literally standing up for Mr. Keating?" Neil clarified.

"Yep, right on the desk," Todd said with a smile.

"With the rest of us and most of the class too," another voice chimed in from the doorway. The two boys turned to see Knox, Meeks, and Pitts all standing there. "About time we saw you again Neil," Knox added with a grin.

"I know. I almost can't believe it..." Neil said as he pushed his suitcase to one side so his friends could get into the room. How could he have thought of dying if he still had friends like these? He smiled as Knox passed a cigarette to him; there would be time for such things later.

"Well we can't believe it either," Pitts remarked. "But it's different now. Without Charlie and Vanessa especially. Charlie called here yesterday. Says he's bored stiff at his new school but he'll try to visit when he can get uncaged."

"And Vanessa?" Neil asked hopefully.

The boys shook their heads. "We thought she'd contact you," Meeks pointed out.

"Not a word from her," Neil confirmed. It had been a week since he'd last seen her; he figured that if all went well, she would have to be in New York by now. "_How is she doing now though?" _he wondered, shivering at the idea that his dear friend might be sleeping on the streets or worse.

"Hey guys, what's going on-" Cameron said from outside as he pushed the door open. "Oh. Neil. I didn't know you were back," the redhead said awkwardly.

"You've got a lot of guts coming in here, Cameron," Knox said slowly, getting to his feet. Pitts looked down while Meeks pretended to be absorbed with winding his watch.

Neil looked at his old friend, unsure what to say. It was clear that Cameron had fallen out of the entire group's good graces; in fact Knox looked as if he would have gladly thrown acid on the newcomer. "It's good to see you again too," he finally said.

"Yeah, I guess," Cameron muttered.

"Um Neil, we'll go on ahead to breakfast, I'll save some for you?" Todd said as he quickly adjusted his necktie.

"Yes please," Neil replied. The rest of the group left the room, leaving only him and Cameron on the premises.

Cameron cleared his throat first. "So I guess you want to know 'why' then?"

"You could start with that," Neil said stiffly. While he knew Cameron well enough to imagine that the other boy would choose an act of self-preservation over any loyalty or ideology, it did not make the sting of betrayal and loss any less.

"Nothing would have happened if it hadn't been for Mr. Keating. I mean, we could have all just gone on happy with our lives, but he had to come in talking about seizing the day, the Society and all of that nonsense," Cameron said slowly. "He was destroying us. He almost got you killed, Neil!"

"Cameron, you got it wrong," Neil said. "I know you never really agreed with things that Mr. Keating said. Or with a number of other things actually: with Charlie being who he is or even Vanessa being around." He waited for Cameron's slight nod before continuing. "You can think what you want, but that doesn't mean you can go around telling lies. What I did to myself had almost nothing to do with Mr. Keating."

"He pushed you over the edge."

"It was long in coming." If anything, his time with the Dead Poets Society and learning about _Carpe Diem_ had opened his eyes to the quiet desperation he'd been holding down for years. "_If it didn't happen now, it would have happened eventually,_" he knew. A night of despair in medical school, a bad day at a hospital, or even a simple cutting criticism: anything else could have brought him down as easily as that night outside the playhouse did.

The redhead leaned against the doorframe, trying to muster up arguments. "What Mr. Keating was doing was dangerous. The things he was teaching us, how was that going to help? All the trouble, all the difficulty we now will have in getting to universities and good jobs-"

"Cameron, is that all you ever think about? Because of what you did, Mr. Nolan probably _didn't_ even read the letter I had, explaining what had happened. Because of what you did, a good teacher is now out of a job, and two of our friends got expelled," Neil retorted furiously. "Aren't you even sorry about that?"

"Charlie had it coming. You saw how out of control he was getting. And Vanessa..." Cameron trailed off. "She was never meant to be here. A girl like her here, it's almost a joke!"

"To her, it wasn't."

Cameron shook his head, as if in disbelief. "So what's going to happen?"

"I don't know if I can forgive you, right away at least," Neil said. "I don't know what the others will do either. You're going to have to work hard to prove to them that you can be trusted."

Cameron opened his mouth as if to say something, but he decided against it at the last moment and retreated. Neil quickly grabbed his things for the day and headed downstairs. "_You can't keep on hating him; you know he was always like that," _he reminded himself. Perhaps in some way, this sort of conflict was inevitable.

He tried not to dwell on it for the rest of the day as he got through his classes, working a little harder to make up for the work he'd missed out on during his absence. However as soon as classes let out for the day, he lost no time in putting his things back in his room and searching his desk for the paper that Vanessa had given him with Mr. Keating's address in town. Hopefully the man was still there, and not gone back to London or elsewhere in the world.

It did not take him long to locate the small brick boarding house that served now as his former teacher's lodgings. Neil felt his heart pounding against his ribcage as he knocked at the door and asked the crochety old lady there if he could speak to John Keating. "_What if he is angry with me?" _he wondered as he stepped into the boarding house's small hall and took a seat in the living room. In a way the rather cluttered interior, piled with antique furniture and books, was just like Mr. Keating's former office and quarters at Welton. "_Makes sense that he'd be here," _Neil thought as he twiddled his thumbs.

"I knew you'd visit one of these days, Neil," Mr. Keating said as he entered the room. "Would you want some tea again?"

"Yes, I think that would be nice. Thank you," Neil said. He followed Mr. Keating to the kitchen, where he waited as his former teacher put some leaves in a pot of boiling water and left them to steep. He tried to clear his throat, but it was Mr. Keating who broke the silence first.

"So have you been?" the teacher asked calmly.

"I'm back at Welton now. It still feels a little strange," Neil began. He took a deep breath before looking at Mr. Keating. "Captain, I'm sorry I lied about talking to my father about the play. If I'd just told the truth, or actually talked to my father, none of this would have happened and you'd still be teaching at Welton."

Mr. Keating's expression was wry as he regarded Neil. "I think that my leaving Welton would have happened at some point anyway, even without what happened at the play. I'm not angry with you for what happened."

"You're not?" Neil asked confusedly.

"You acted out of fear, Neil. I don't think you were able to foresee the possible consequences of your actions either," Mr. Keating said. Though it was evident that he was not overjoyed at these circumstances, his tone was free of bitterness and disappointment. "I just hope that this has been a lesson to you, much like the time with Charlie and his phone call from God, or Vanessa and her article," he added.

"Yeah, _Carpe Diem_," Neil mused. "I guess you didn't believe me for a minute when I told you about talking to my father. Even Vanessa saw through me."

"You lacked conviction."

"I think so," Neil agreed, feeling a little embarrassed. "Speaking about lacking conviction, I still can't believe Cameron did what he did. I wrote a letter trying to explain everything, but it didn't matter."

"People will believe what they want to believe," Mr. Keating said with a shrug. "About what Richard did, don't be too harsh on him. Like you, he was acting only out of fear as well."

"He didn't have to put all the blame on you! It's as if nothing you ever said in class came through to him," Neil said, not hiding his frustration.

"Not all people are ready to accept anything that they see breaks the norms," Mr. Keating explained patiently. "Maybe in time he will be shaken up in his own way. Who knows, he might even end up changing the world when he does."

"_That would be interesting if it did happen," _Neil thought as the tea kettle began to whistle. "But you don't regret coming to Welton?"

"Not for one moment." Mr. Keating replied with a smile. He poured the tea out into two cups and handed one to Neil. "Have you heard from Vanessa and Charlie?"

"Charlie, yes. Not directly but he got in touch with the others. From Vanessa, not a word," Neil replied before taking a sip of his tea. The hot liquid seared his throat momentarily but sent some much needed warmth into his body. "Sometimes I wish I could be as brave as she was, just taking off to do what she really wants."

"But that will come at a high cost, and by doing that there are some opportunities she'll be missing," Mr. Keating pointed out. "Besides, it is not any less brave to stay where you are and fight, to prove that seizing the day does not mean having to burn everything up or literally die for what you believe in."

Neil nodded, seeing the truth in Mr. Keating's words. After all, weren't Todd, Knox, Meeks, and Pitts also around, proving the Captain's very words? "My father and I eventually did have a talk. In the hospital," he finally said a little more brightly.

"Oh? What did he say?"Mr. Keating asked with genuine interest.

"He's still bent on making me go to medical school, but he knows that I applied for other universities to take humanities programs like acting. He said that if I want to go there, I have to make my own way," Neil replied. He sighed with relief on seeing a smile of acknowledgment on Mr. Keating's face. This time, his teacher really did believe him.

The young man took another sip of tea. "It's not going to be easy; I'm probably going to have to work my way through, take jobs on the side maybe, and to be honest, Captain, I'm a little scared."

"If you weren't even a little bit afraid, I'd say you were being foolhardy," Mr. Keating reassured him. "But this is the time when you could prove how much your dreams really mean to you, that this is more than you being stubborn or having a flight of fancy."

"I hope I can do it, Captain."

"You will, Neil. I'm sure of it."

After another half hour of more convivial conversation, Neil made his goodbyes, promising to keep in touch with Mr. Keating. He biked back to Welton in high spirits, feeling once again that familiar fire in his veins. "_Maybe the Dead Poets can't convene for some time, but that doesn't mean it's all over," _he told himself as he walked up to his room.

Inside, Todd was busy rewriting an essay. "Take a look at your pillow, Neil," he said.

"Why?"

"A letter came in this afternoon."

Neil picked up the still sealed envelope lying on his pillow. "How was this able to get past Hager?" he asked.

"Pitts picked up the mail when it got in," Todd replied. "Well since it was addressed to you, we didn't want to open it right away."

"Thanks," Neil said before carefully opening the envelope. He smiled widely on seeing the familiar lines of Vanessa's handwriting covering the paper. "_At least she's okay," _he thought as he sat down to read the letter:

_Dear Neil,_

_ I hope this letter finds you well and happy. I've addressed this to be sent to Welton, since it's safer there than at your parents' home. _

_I just want to let you know that I'm doing fine. I wish I could be more detailed, but I'm afraid that someone might open this letter and find me. It hasn't been easy; living on dry goods and tapwater isn't that fun, but I think my luck will turn soon. Besides, working in a diner is not so bad; one meets the most interesting people here, and I do get free food. I still don't have a place of my own, but I can tell you that I'm not sleeping in a shelter or anywhere seedy. _

_You might ask what happened to my writing. I can tell you that soon, very soon, I will start trying to send in my stuff for publication. There are the big places like newspapers, smaller publications, and even places like theatres who need a person who knows what to do besides holding a pen. I have no shortage of places to go. I will write again when you can see my name in print. Or find some safer way to contact you. _

_ Every day I miss you, and our friends. I miss being in Mr. Keating's class. I miss our simple times out in the cave. I even miss the little bickering among the girls. Yes, living out here on my own isn't simple at all. It's not what I wanted for myself originally, and I wouldn't wish this life on you. What keeps me going is the fact that it's better than some alternatives, and that, in the words of Henley, "I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul." And of course there is the possibility that we can meet again in this city. You'd love it here. _

_ Give my regards to our friends and the Captain. _

_All my love,_

_Vanessa_

"What did she say?" Todd asked, scooting over. "She's not hurt or hungry or anything, is she?"

"She's going to be fine," Neil said happily, showing the letter to him. "_And hopefully we can say the same for the rest of us," _he thought as he went over to his own desk to get to work. He patted the worn copy of "Five Centuries of Verse" on his desk. "_There will be a time for such a word," _he thought, glancing fondly at its yellowed pages.


	32. Chapter 32

_A/N: Finally, we've reached the last chapter of this saga. Thanks to all readers and reviewers, especially angel2u, for sticking with me this far. _

**Epilogue (Vanessa): Poets To Come**

_September 30, 1960_

_ Oh Captain, my Captain,_

_ I hope that this letter gets to you soon, before the boys pre-empt me with their own missives. I'm not sure how quick the post is, but surely it shouldn't have a hard time locating you in the town of Oxford. I really hope you're doing fine. _

_I'm sorry that my past letters have been middling; aside from work at the diner and my deadlines for articles, I've had to help Neil, Todd, and Charlie settle in New York. Yes, you read that right, the four of us are in New York!_

_ You probably might have heard right now where the rest of us are. Meeks is taking up mechanical engineering at Harvard. I guess he's never been happier. Pitts is in Yale now, taking up a pre-law course of some sort but he thinks he's switching his major one of these days. Knox and Chris are up in Boston, taking pre-law classes also. Knox isn't sure what he wants to do, but Chris is intent on sticking to law. Let's see how that goes. Cameron is taking up finance at Princeton. He sent a short note from there, but not much else. _

_ As for those of us in New York, well you do know what Todd did: after everything he decided he wanted to pursue a degree in English. So far he's doing great, and he's mentioned that he's up to writing some book. I don't know about what yet, but I'm willing to bet it's poetry. Charlie is taking up philosophy, which is pretty funny since last night he burst into the apartment and declared himself a nihilist. Neil, Todd, and I think he will change his tune in a week or so; it's not like Charlie to believe in nothing. As for Neil, he's enjoying his History classes and he's waiting for the final decision from the university drama guild as to whether he can join them this year. I have no doubt though as to what this decision will be. _

_ I have gotten together my requirements for my GED, and I'm hoping to take it in time for me to enroll in community college by winter next year at the earliest. So I'm going to be a graduate someday even if it will take me long to get there. I'm thinking of applying for Journalism. What do you think?_

_ We all hope to hear from you soon, Captain! Till your next letter!_

_Your former student_

_Vanessa O'Donnell_

The young woman carefully set the letter down at one side of her tiny and cluttered desk, taking care not to smudge the still wet ink. "_Now to get to some other work," _she thought as she searched her drawers for some fresh paper. She smiled on opening one drawer, which was piled high with various opened letters. It had taken some time till she and her friends were able to establish a regular letter exchange. At first, contact was sporadic, limited to hurried notes filled with cryptic references to future plans, or furtive phone calls from phone booths. But as winter passed and spring took hold of the world, the letters got longer and came more frequently. "_And finally I could stop moping about my loneliness," _Vanessa reminisced.

She bit her lip as she caught sight of a picture of her family. It had taken some weeks till her parents had finally tracked her down in New York, a rather frightening development that had led to a swift change of address, a shouting match, and her eventually getting disowned by her stepfather. "_But someday they will see more than just my name in the byline," _she thought, looking at the faces of her mother and her brother.

After finding a few blank sheets in another drawer, she crossed the room to where another desk stood, this one piled high with play scripts that nearly buried a rather old typewriter. Before she could put the paper in the machine, she heard some laughter followed by a loud blast on the saxophone. "Nuwanda, cut it out, I'm trying to study!" Todd protested from outside.

"Go study elsewhere," Charlie said before blowing another note on the saxophone.

Vanessa moved her chair away from the door in time to let Todd into the room. "Next week let's get you some earmuffs or something," she said to him sympathetically.

Todd nodded as he kept his grip on his textbook. "How do you and Neil manage to sleep in here?" he asked, looking around the piles of clothes and books that littered the tiny room.

"I'm not sure really," Vanessa deadpanned over the continued attempts at music that Charlie was making outside. She winced at one particularly screeching passage. "If it's any consolation, he'll stop once he remembers that it's his turn to make dinner."

"Will you be eating here?" Todd asked.

"Yes. I have the night off," Vanessa replied. She looked at her hands, which had grown callused and a little dry from months of washing dishes and cooking meals at a diner. "_The price you pay for these things, remember?" _she thought as she leaned back in her seat.

Todd suddenly looked up from what he was reading. "Hi Neil. I just had to get away from Charlie's sax practice."

"Don't worry, I've already told him to practice on the roof," Neil said candidly as he entered the room. He had with him a rather large box. "Sorry I'm late. Some protest down at the corner."

"What, another sit-in?" Charlie asked from the doorway.

"A protest actually. It's happening more and more often," Neil said.

Vanessa smiled at this situation. "_It was only a matter of time," _she thought. Lately the news had been featuring protest after protest: sit-ins in the southern states, protests for equal employments for blacks, and daring writings about justice and rights being passed on and whispered about from corner to corner. "_If Whitman were alive today, what would he write?" _she wondered. Yet perhaps, she thought as she looked at Todd and his inkstained hands, this was a verse for someone else to write.

Neil adjusted his hold on the box.. "Van, would you happen to have any space left on your desk?" he asked.

"Why do you ask?" she said, getting to her feet.

"I need someplace to set this down," Neil replied in a matter-of-fact-tone.

Vanessa raised an eyebrow as she cleared some papers and books off one side of her desk, taking care not to crush the letter she'd just finished writing. When she turned around, she saw that Neil had opened the box and was holding a bright, shiny typewriter.

"Happy birthday Van!" Todd yelled as Charlie blew another blast on his saxophone.

"Neil, you can't be serious-" Vanessa trailed off, blinking with disbelief.

"Yep, it's yours. It was long in coming," Neil said, grinning widely as he set down the typewriter on the newly cleared space on Vanessa's desk. "What do you think?"

"It's lovely. How did you manage..." she whispered, knowing what a precious gift this was.

"We all pooled for it," Todd explained. "I mean, you're _starting_ to become a big shot author."

"I've only had a few articles published," Vanessa said, reddening slightly.

"That's further than any of us have gone," Neil whispered in her ear.

Charlie coughed and gestured to Todd. "Come on, let's leave Romeo and Juliet alone for a bit," he said, motioning for his friend to leave the room.

"It's a bit of a misnomer don't you think?" Todd asked.

"Why what would you pick?"

"Let me think of a happy couple from Shakespeare first-"

Neil burst out laughing as Todd and Charlie quit the room, still arguing. "Todd can go on all night about it," he said knowingly. "He's just going to get better at it the more he gets into English."

"Let him," Vanessa giggled, resting her cheek against Neil's chest. She sighed on feeling the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. "_I can't believe we very nearly missed out on all of this," _she thought as she wrapped her arms around him.

Neil kissed her forehead. "It's going to be a good year, Van."

"I have no doubt of it," she said, smiling up at him before pulling him down for a kiss. Some joys, she decided, were best not put in words.


End file.
